Harry Potter and the Witch Crystal
by lurv2boogie
Summary: “He will have power the Dark Lord knows not”. Dumbledore thought that this power comes from Lily Potter. It has guided Harry through his adventures. But what if everything Harry thought he knew about his family and his power... was wrong? HBP spoilers, AU
1. Strangers in the Shadows

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you even remotely recognize here. The only thing I own, sadly, is my computer.

Chapter 1

The night had been busy for Tom in The Leaky Cauldron. When the bar had been full, warm lights had hovered precariously above patron's heads, illuminating the room. Now that it was empty, and the candles had been extinguished, Tom only had the light of the moon to clean the bar and head for home. He danced with the mop and bucket, casting half-glances over reckless shadows of tables and chairs by moonlight. With a sweeping motion, he gestured towards the chairs, where they stacked themselves near the tables, which had in turn mopped themselves down. Another look around the room told him that his job was, finally, finished, and he began to make his way towards the upward staircase.

As he ascended the staircase, he looked around once more, triple checking the state of the bar. Everything seemed to be in order, so he turned again to walk up the stairs, but as he did he noticed a shadow from behind a corner. It seemed out of place, as though it didn't belong in the bar. Abandoning his climb up the stairs, Tom inched towards the darkened area. It definitely wasn't a piece of bar equipment. As the aged bar man tip-toed towards it, the shadow gave a hiccup. _Wait on, _Tom thought. _Shadows don't hiccup. There's an intruder!_

The shadow moved, shuddering and gasping. As Tom rounded the corner, he saw a cloak. The person wearing it looked up, and Tom gave a startled gasp. Getting down on his hands and knees, he helped the figure up, who sank into his shoulders. Carefully but firmly, he walked the cloaked person to a stack of chairs and waved a careless hand at it, causing a chair to fly down and allow the person to sit on it. As Tom stared into the person's face, he confirmed that it was a woman, an old friend of his. Tom stuttered a hesitant question,

"H-h-h-ow can…. W-what happened?" The woman in the cloak merely gave a sad smile to reassure the shocked bar man, and stared intently into his eyes, willing Tom to understand without having to explain.

Tom stared back into her eyes, hypnotised by his portrait reflected in the brilliant emerald colour. A lock of long red hair poked casually out of the cloak. Tom murmured again, in a barely audible whisper, "But… James. _Harry_."

Understandably preoccupied, Tom did not look through the window of the Leaky Cauldron. Had he done, he would have noticed the stares from muggle pedestrians, who briefly stopped in front of the bar and looked through the windows, while walking home after a long day of work

A/N: So how was that? Please, people, you know exactly what I want. Press that little purple button down there. Go on! I read all reviews, even if you just want to say IT'S CRAP. Whatever you think, please tell me.


	2. Letters and Magic

Disclaimer: If I was JK, I would own this, but I'm not, so I don't.

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Chapter 2

For Harry Potter, the summer holidays were a time of misery and longing. The previous six summers had been spent missing Hogwarts castle, his best friends Ron and Hermione, Quidditch – a wizarding sport played on broom sticks, (_The best sport in the world_, Harry thought dully) and, of course, magic. However, this summer was different. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, while as horrible as ever, had begun treating him with a revering disdain. The reason was simple: this summer, a few hours from now in fact, Harry would turn 17 and would therefore be of age in the wizarding world. Unfortunately, this meant that he would not have the protection from the wizard Voldemort, who killed his parents and was now after Harry, but he would be able to perform magic outside of school, legally. He smiled as he thought of the time 5 years ago when Dobby the house-elf had destroyed his Aunt Petunia's massive dessert, causing Harry a lot of trouble. Falling back onto his worn pillow, Harry smiled weakly and tried to fall asleep, thinking of his birthday.

When Harry awoke five hours later, the house was unusually quiet. Seventeen-year-old Dudley, Harry's cousin, would usually be making a lot of noise and fuss on Harry's birthday, drawing the attention away from the date. Curious, Harry walked downstairs in his pyjamas, to find that the Dursley family were eating breakfast in silence. However, when Uncle Vernon saw that Harry had arrived in the kitchen, he leapt up from his chair and rushed over to him, smiling nervously. Apparently they hadn't forgotten that he was of age today. Harry confidently walked past Uncle Vernon and over to the table, where Dudley's huge bottom was quivering in the places where it stuck out of the chair back.

Smiling, he reached for the toast, but then paused with his hand in mid air. _Oh, what the hell_, he thought, and withdrew his wand from his pyjamas. The Dursleys gave a unanimous gasp, frozen in their positions, as Harry muttered,

"_Accio toast_." The toast landed neatly on his plate, and he began to butter it with a new energy, fighting to hide a grin at the look of astonishment going around the table. All three Dursleys just stared at Harry. When Harry had stuffed the last piece of toast into his mouth, he said to the room at large, "I'm going to get my stuff now. See you in a sec." The remainder of the people at the table stared, open mouthed, as Harry happily went upstairs to collect his things and pack his bags for The Burrow, where his friend Ron Weasley lived. Though he would not be looking forward to a confrontation with Ron's sister, Ginny, who Harry had broken up with last year, he could hardly control his excitement at seeing Hermione and Ron again.

As Harry entered his room, closing the door quietly behind him, he was delighted to find his snowy owl, Hedwig, sitting on the window sill, waiting for his arrival. He held out a hand, which she flew to so that Harry could release several colourful envelopes from her grasp. Giving him an affectionate nip on the finger, Hedwig took flight out of the window when she was relieved of her delivery. Harry took the thick pile to his bed, where he sat cross-legged to read his mail. The first envelope held a letter from Hermione, which read:

_Dear Harry,_

_How's your summer going? Mine's fantastic at the moment! Mum, Dad_ _and I are coming back from Switzerland tomorrow – all the magic here is just as fascinating as it was in France! – so I should see you at the Burrow. I have a feeling that my parents are a little intimidated by me, because of the magic I can do now, but I think they were impressed with everything that I've learnt – and kind of relieved that their money wasn't wasted! _

_How've the Dursley's been treating you lately? I hope they haven't been __giving you too much of a hard time, but if they did you could turn them into teacups now anyway. _

_Ron seems to be happy, I've only spoken to him once or twice this_ _summer. I'll be seeing him very soon, though. As well as you. Have a very happy birthday, and use my gift to you wisely at school!_

_See you tomorrow,  
Love Hermione_

_PS: It's the red and gold packaging – you know, to remind you of Hogwarts. _

Harry looked warmly at the letter, and then looked up at the pile of letters expectantly, but he could not find any packages. Suddenly a speeding shape flew into his room through the window, knocking over lamps and various knick-knacks of Dudley's on the shelves. Harry smiled to himself.

"Pig," he said softly. "Let's see what's going on in the world of Ron."

Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, flew excitedly around the room, carrying a bag that was bulging with packages. Harry gave a shrill whistle and Pig flew over to him, almost knocking Harry out in the process. He untied the string holding the bag to Pig's small claws, and then allowed Pig to fly back into the open. After watching Pig fly off into the distance, Harry reached down into the bag and pulled out several coloured packages until he held the red and gold coloured wrapping paper in his hand.

He tore at the colourful packaging, until he revealed what was inside – a book. _Typical Hermione_, Harry mused, running his hands along the smooth leather cover. Upon opening the book however, to Harry's astonishment and delight, he did not see the masses of text in Latin that he had been expecting. Rather, the book had been hollowed out, and inside it was another note, with another package.

_Dear Harry (again), _

_I had to write that fake letter, Harry, so that we wouldn't give anything away. According to Mr Weasley, the Death Eater's are intercepting owls, like that Umbridge woman did, so we had to write coded letters, which gave me the idea for your present. The book itself is magical – if anyone but the owner tries to open it, it looks like some old textbook, and the pages are whole. No one can find anything you put in here. _

_The second present is has a permanent shield spell on it, and it comes with a chain that gets longer depending on the number of people you're trying to fit it around. Thought it might come in handy. _

Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch as he read the next few sentences. His sinuses burned, and to his horror (and immense gladness that he was alone) his unsuspecting face became damp with a mixture of sweat and tears. Too tired to fight them off, Harry allowed them to flow freely from his eyes, creating streams that dripped off his face like rain from a tree.

_How are you doing? With Dumbledore's… Look, we're worried about you. It wasn't your fault, Harry. You couldn't do anything. We'll talk more about this when I see you, work out what our next more is. Have you got a plan at all? _

Harry wiped his eyes on his shirt, begging his face to relax and dry quickly. Getting his wand out, he performed a quick charm to dry his face and his eyes. Yes, he did have a plan, to some extent. He shrugged off his grief about his headmaster's death, fighting to ignore it like he had all summer.

_And look, please don't come to the Burrow tomorrow. We're not there anymore and I haven't been to Switzerland. It was just a clever ploy. Ron says hi, but he's sending his own letter. Get on the Knight Bus tonight and go to the Leaky Cauldron. We'll be on the bus._

_See you then, (for real this time)_

_Love Hermione_

Harry opened the smaller package inside the book and gasped. It was an oval shaped emerald stone, with tiny engravings on it. Squinting at it, Harry admired the strange glistening on the surface of the polished stone. He paused a moment before slipping it around his neck. _Knowing Hermione_, he thought absently, _I'll be dead before I can say 'Thanks' if I don't wear it. Plus, it probably does work well enough_. _After all, it was from Hermione, not Ron. _Harry put the letters inside the book, and shut it with a heavy _thud_, shaking off the superficial layer of emotions that had been collecting since Dumbledore's death.

Sitting on the bed, he placed Hermione's book down gently and picked up another envelope – this one from Hagrid.

_Harry_- 

_How're you going? Hope the Muggle's are treating you right (not that it matters much now). Hope you like the birthday cakes. Baked them myself. Won't say much here, only that I'm going to be seeing you real soon, Harry. _

_Happy Birthday,_

_Hagrid_

_PS: Fang's injured. Not too bad, but he's going to be down for a while. Something attacked him._

Harry though piteously of Hagrid. He had lost his best friend, a giant talking spider named Aragog, last year, and now he had come close to losing his giant bloodhound, Fang. Glancing to the brown package that was most certainly from Hagrid, he knocked on the cakes (they _clunk_ed) before clarifying that they weren't edible. Having had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking, he didn't even open the package before throwing them in the bin, feeling only a little guilty. Harry turned to the pile of envelopes, and picked out a plain parchment letter with Harry's address in Ron's shaky handwriting on it.

_Dear Harry,_

_How's it going? Nothing much has happened here. Hermione's been staying with us – but that's probably just a lie, because, you know. Can't be too careful. _

Harry grinned, suspecting that Hermione was watching as Ron wrote the letter.

_Anyway, she got Head Girl (it was such a shock – how ever could we have guessed?) and she's been really annoying about it. But it's going well between us, I think (at least she's not yelling "Ron-Ron" every where). About your present, well, it's waiting for you when you get to the Burrow -----------._

Something was crossed out and scribbled over next to the word "Burrow". Upon closer inspection, Harry discovered it was a "(wink wink)". Ron was obviously having a hard time understanding the "stealthy" concept.

_See you soon,_

_Ron_

_PS: Did Hagrid tell you about Fang getting hurt? He's pretty upset._

Several letters and a massive fruit pie later (Mrs Weasley's gift), Harry packed them away in his trunk, which was bewitched to expand inside surreptitiously without attracting attention. He felt another horrible lurch in his stomach when he saw the Hogwarts letter, and noted with sadness that Professor Flitwick had replaced Professor McGonagall as the Deputy Headmaster. Professor McGonagall had obviously replaced Professor Dumbledore. The letter was, however, somewhat confusing emotionally for Harry, as he read with astonishment that Professor McGonagall had made him Head Boy. Seeing as Hermione was the Gryffindor prefect, another girl would be taking her place. He sat pensively for another moment before rising from the bed collecting his things from various nooks and crannies of the room.

When Harry walked down the stairs after a ten minute clean up (helped along with magic) he left his trunk at the front door and walked slowly to the table once more. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were still there, Dudley having vacated the table to watch cartoons in the living room. Breathing deeply, Harry said what he had been longing to say for 6 years,

"Right, you lot. You can't do anything to me now, or I'll turn you into mice," Harry knew that he couldn't really, but there was no harm in the Dursleys thinking that he could. "The whole time I've been here, you've done nothing but bully me and mistreat me. I'd have run off if I wasn't risking my life. So, while you treated me miserably, I'm going to show you the difference between you and me now. I hate you lot, but I'm going to give you a warning: Voldemort is powerful. He's going to kill you if he gets the chance. He'll kill anyone. So don't be stupid. Lay low. The entire wizarding-" He was interrupted by a shudder from Uncle Vernon. "The entire wizarding world knows that you're looking after me. Just a warning." Infuriated at being talked down to in such a way, _and by_ _Harry, for god's sake_, Uncle Vernon puffed out his chest and said,

"Now you listen to me boy-"

"Actually, I'd rather not." Harry replied as he walked towards the door, only to be dragged back by Uncle Vernon. Harry didn't even bother to get his wand out.

"You think you can talk to me like that, and get-"

"Away with it? Pretty much, yep." Harry interrupted again, and with that, he turned his back on his uncle, hovering his trunk behind him as he walked through the door of 4 Privet Drive, knowing he would never have to walk through it again.

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A/N: So, you liked? If you did, please review. If you didn't, review anyway! I would really love some constructive criticism... to provide readers with more enjoyment. Go on... press that little purple button and tell me what you think. : ) 


	3. Surprise

**Disclaimer:If you already knew it, it doesn't belong to me.**

A/N: Okay, so here is Chapter 3. Enjoy!

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Standing on the smooth pavement of Privet Drive in the mid-morning sunlight, Harry reached into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his wand. He let go of his trunk and stretched his right hand, which still had a firm hold on his wand, out towards the street. He waited a few seconds, painfully conscious of how strange his behavior would look to a resident of Privet Drive, until the familiar shape of the triple-decker purple bus came speeding towards him. 

Harry stooped low to take hold of his trunk handle and then straightened abruptly, expecting to see the pimply face of Stan Shunpike staring down at him. However, as he gazed into the eyes of this new and slightly rounded conductor, he concluded with a jolt of fury that Stan was still in Azkaban, the infamous wizarding prison. Stan had an unfortunate habit of exaggerating, and was overheard talking about secret Death Eater plans in a bar the previous year. Obviously, the poor man was innocent, but in a feeble attempt to appear as though they were actually doing something, the Ministry of Magic had locked him away in Azkaban.

The new conductor held Harry's eye for a second longer, then spoke in a deep voice,

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. I am Timothy Kenton, your conductor for this morning." His accent was very different to Stan's, the snobbish pronunciation still echoing on Timothy's lips.

He stared at Harry. Suddenly, he raised an arm and rubbed the tips of his thumb and forefinger against each other. It took Harry a good ten seconds for him to realize that Timothy wanted payment. Harry handed over the heavy silver Sickles and watched as the conductor counted the coins, placing each into his opposite free hand until they all sat together again.

Apparently satisfied, he stepped forward to allow Harry access to the bus entrance, carrying the heavy trunk with ease and pushing it into the steel luggage rack. Harry waved briefly at the man, who looked on with disdain, and turned to go upstairs. After seeing neither Ron nor Hermione on the second deck, he walked up the second set of stairs. Standing on the top deck were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione, so Harry was appropriately greeted with rib-crushing hugs from Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. Ron stood on the sidelines, a lop-sided grin on his face. When the two women finally released him, Ron stepped forward and waved stupidly before turning to Hermione and tutting loudly.

"Hermione, honestly, between all the hugs you give me and the ones you give Harry, someone would have thought that you would have known that it's not polite to squash your best friends to death, especially not this early in the morning!" He grinned, and began to kiss her cheek.

"So, Harry. How've your holidays been?" Hermione interrupted Ron's affectionate peck on the cheek to turn and glare at him. Ron's ears turned a brilliant red instantly.

"Oh, you know… Okay I guess. What about you, Hermione?" Harry said, with a frown. Hermione blushed, before saying in a quiet voice,

"Oh, I stayed with Ron."

That sentence alone was enough for Harry to realize that the two of them had finally worked past their differences. Ron grinned at Harry before placing an arm around Hermione's waist pointedly. Hermione, obviously embarrassed, tried to shrug Ron off, but he kept his hold on her waist, his knuckles going white in the process.

"It's good to see you, Harry, dear. You're looking a bit peaky-" Mr. Weasley said concernedly.

"As always, Mrs. Weasley. As always." Harry laughed in reply.

An uncomfortable silence hung naked in the air, until Harry shifted his gaze to his feet and said in a low murmur,

"How's Ginny?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged looks, and sped down the staircase to the lower levels. As Ron began to speak, Harry's head shot up.

"She's been… well… not the best, mate. It hit her pretty hard, what you said. She told all of us that she understood, but she obviously doesn't. I, er… I think you should, er, go and talk to her. Maybe… apologize?" Harry's heart beat faster with rage and concern for Ginny. He brought his hand defensively to his face, and said in a low whisper,

"I should _apologize_? I'm trying to protect her! You think I… you think… do you think I didn't think about this at all?" His eyes stung and he begged them silently not to water. "How do I go and talk to her? How can you say to someone 'oh, I know that what I'm doing is really bloody idiotic, but it's for the greater good and I really am sorry'. No one should have to take that! I wouldn't!"

"Mate, I get what your saying, but she's not just your… um… g-girlfriend. She's my sister," Ron looked very uncomfortable at the prospect of getting Harry angry again, but seemed unable to contain himself. "She's my sister and she deserves better than this."

With that, Ron took off down the stairs, leaving Hermione to clean up the remainder of the tattered conversation. She stepped forward, giving Harry a small smile as she gestured towards one of the weathered leather sofas, where they sat side by side. She waited patiently for Harry to speak. When he did, Harry was immensely grateful that Hermione was sitting still, appearing to want to hear everything that Harry had to say.

"I wasn't expecting this to come up in the first five minutes of me being here. I didn't even think that Ron would bring it up at all. That was stupid of me. I should have known that he'd want to protect…" He swallowed, looking down at his worn and dirty sneakers. "He'd want to protect his sister. I dunno, Ginny gave me more hope for the entire human race than anything else ever has. She made me believe, and I want to believe. God, I am such an _idiot_!" He swung clenched fists violently, leaving dents in the back of the sofa in front of him. "Why did it take me until after I broke up with her to realize that I need her? Cos that would have been a lot better for everyone." He gave Hermione a weak smile, looking up briefly. "I've been thinking about her a lot this summer. I keep thinking, and the more I think, the more I regret what I did. The more I just want her here. I dunno, I just keep thinking to myself… _'Maybe she would forgive me'_. If things were different… If I wasn't, you know… do you honestly think that I would be up here talking, instead of down there with her?" He paused, and Hermione opened her mouth slightly to speak.

"Harry, I understand that you just want her safe. But did it ever occur to you that maybe having Ginny by your side was the safest thing you can do? After all, Professor Du… the Headmaster… always said that the one thing that Voldemort could not understand was love. Your mother loved you, Harry. So you gained her protection." Harry's gaze remained directed at his feet.

"I've lost her. What can I possibly say to make her feel better?"

"Do you love her?" Hermione said quickly. Harry's cheeks burned. He became flustered at the simplicity of the question, avoiding it with a tone of disdain.

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference in the world, Harry. It was a simple question." Harry gazed at Hermione, his eyes burning again. His voice lost the mocking quality of the previous sentence as he spoke.

"I… Yeah." Hermione gave an encouraging smile.

"Then tell her that." And she walked off down the stairs in pursuit of Ron. Harry took a deep breath and followed her to the second deck, where Ron was sitting in the front row of sofas and Ginny was sitting in the corner of the back row in silence. Harry walked towards her, his brain protesting furiously with outraged cries. When he reached her, he swung the empty second to last row of sofas around and sat opposite Ginny. She looked down at her hands, which were resting on her lap, and said in a whisper, "Hi." Harry fought the will to run away, and spoke calmly.

"Hi. Good holiday?" She nodded, and there was an uncomfortable silence between the two for a moment. Harry was tempted to wander around what he had come to tell her, but knew that he would only make things worse if he wasn't truthful. "I, er… have some things to talk to you about. Actually, just one thing. Well not so much one thing as lots of little things that all make up a big thing…" He trailed off weakly.

"Harry, it's okay. I mean, I won't pretend that it didn't hurt, but I understand."

"How can you, when I don't even understand?" Ginny smiled sadly. Harry continued speaking, stumbling on the words as they came from his mouth. "I… I made a mistake last year. I've thought about it a lot but… I need you back." Ginny started at the last four words of Harry's mumbled sentence, jumping as though Harry's words had struck her face. Ginny's eyes began to water, staining her face with vertical streams of tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed.

Harry stared at her tired and tear-stained face. He felt his heart beat faster and faster until he felt sure that she would be able to see it pumping through his shirt. In an impulsive moment, he stood up and sat next to her, putting his arms around her shoulders and stroking her hair. She resisted at first, but then slumped into the warmth of Harry's body, shaking with a confusing mix of rage and happiness. And there Harry held her, until Ron began walking towards the pair with his eyebrows raised in suspicion. Harry let go of Ginny, allowing her to stand and talk to Ron, with a much happier expression written across her face.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry sat together for the remainder of the trip, Ginny next to Harry and Hermione next to Ron. As the Knight Bus lurched to a halt (making Harry thankful that he hadn't eaten much for breakfast that morning), and the two couples rose from their seats to carry their luggage into The Leaky Cauldron, Harry pulled at Ginny's hand, moving her closer to him. When she was close enough for him to smell the shampoo in her hair, he whispered three words, which were enough for Ginny to fling her arms around Harry and forgive him.

The words were, "I love you." And they had never meant more.

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As the large group of people walked through the door of the Leaky Cauldron, the number of Muggles that noticed them walking in startled them. Mr. Weasley gave a cheery "_Hello_" to the passers-by whom stared at his peculiar clothes, but made worried faces to the other Weasleys present. Inside, Tom, who was not wearing his usual toothy grin, but rather a grim expression, greeted Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys. 

"Mr. Potter, perhaps… perhaps you had better come with me." Tom said, gesturing towards the staircase at the back of the bar. Harry left his suitcase with Hermione and followed Tom, wondering what had happened. A dozen thoughts randomly cascaded his mind, but nothing he thought of had come even close to the truth. As he turned a corner in the twisted corridors, Tom led him to a polished wood door, which he knocked upon. A woman's voice rang out to welcome them into the room.

As Harry stepped across the threshold, he saw that the room was empty except for a woman wearing a cloak that concealed her face. She nodded, and Tom said slowly, "Yes, it's Harry." Bemused, Harry stepped forward after a reassuring smile from the aged barman and waved an uncertain hand. The woman hesitated, before raising her hands to her face and pulling down the material that held her features a secret.

Harry gasped. He stumbled backwards, his mind going at a million thoughts a second. He would recognize that woman anywhere, from the numerous photographs that he had seen of her. He stared at her, at a loss for words. The red hair and brilliant emerald green eyes of the woman stood out to Harry, and he recognized them just as he would recognize his own. As his jaw dropped open, and his hand flew to his neck protectively, he knew that the woman he had recognized was his worried, and very much alive, mother.

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A/N: Okay, so I'm evil, right? I mean, with the cliff and all... If you want to find out what the hell is happening, you've gotta review. And I'm not posting until I get at least 4 reviews! So please press that little button and tell me what you thought. Thanks : ) 


	4. My Green Eyed Girl

A/N: I'm sorry that I took so long, and I am well aware that I got more than 4 reviews, but writer's block has been hitting me kinda hard lately… but now it's cleared up, ergo new chapter. : )

The stunned silence that had filled the room suddenly seemed to expand, filling the corridors as well. Harry looked up at his trembling mother once again and felt a torrent of mixed emotions run through his veins. Feeling both as though he should keep an eye on her as well as trying to avoid looking at the woman before him, he settled for staring at her forehead. Lily stepped forward uncertainly, a shadow of a smile passing over her mouth.

"I know this is a shock to you Harry. But you have to lis-"

"No!" Harry surprised himself with the harsh quality in his voice. "I know that you're not Lily Potter. That woman… I know that it can't be true." He said in a softer voice, attempting to rectify his over-zealous behaviour. Lily stared. Tears welled in her eyes.

"I didn't expect you to believe me Harry. But something is very wrong here-"

"Damn right, it is!" Harry shouted again, finding that he no longer cared about sounding harsh. "How dare you come in here, doing a feeble impersonation of a great witch?" His blood heated over boiling point as he spoke.

"Please, Harry. I know that you will find it hard to accept at first. But you must listen to me!" Lily's green eyes sparkled with urgency, making Harry uncertain. A tiny voice spoke inside his head, debating with another, more believing part of Harry.

Either the woman was a very good actress, or-

_It really was her. _

No. That's ridiculous. It's laughable. How could it possibly be my mother?

_What harm would it do in believing her?_

Plenty harm! What if she were a Death Eater in disguise?

_That's ridiculous, how could that happen_?

Polyjuice Potion.

They need some hair from her. If she was dead and buried, how could they- 

All right, all right, I get the picture, okay?

Just believe- 

"Harry, ask me questions! Something only the real Lily would know!" Lily said, interrupting the argument briefly. Harry considered for a moment.

"No, because you could lie. You could say you don't remember, that you're experience has been _too traumatic_. What I need is the truth." The last word rang out, echoing across the wooden floorboard. At these magic words, Tom stepped forward.

"Mr Potter, I do have a solution to the problem. Of course, I have tried this myself, I don't know why I didn't think it up before… Veritaserum. I've got some behind the counter, it might do some good." Harry started, before nodding. Of course, it was the solution to the question over the woman's identity. The battle inside his head raged on.

But even after it's proven to be correct, how do we explain how she got here? 

It's not true, you idiot.

Harry and Lily stayed in the room, silenced, while Tom raced down the stairs. When he came back, he produced a small, clear bottle with a flourish. It was filled with a clear, sluggish liquid that swished around with the movement of the bottle. Tom offered it to Lily, who took it quickly and swallowed a small sip from the bottle. Having been accustomed to seeing people under the effect of Veritaserum, what happened to Lily did not shock Harry at all.

After putting the bottle down, her expression blank, she sank to her knees and lay on the floor. With her eyes closed, she breathed in an out slowly, before suddenly opening her eyes again with another blank face. Harry let out a breath, and said to the woman at his feet,

"What is your name?" The woman's face twitched, before she answered,

"Lily Potter." _What_? Harry thought. _How could that_…?

"What is your name? The truth this time." He added forcefully.

"Lily Potter." Harry frowned.

"What year did you first go out with James Potter at school?" Harry's stomach swooped at the thought of his father, as it always did.

"Seventh year." The face did not move apart from the lips, the rest of the muscles completely relaxed. Lily twitched again. Harry, however, was still not convinced.

"Why aren't you…" He swallowed. "Why aren't you, well… dead?"

"James and I knew that He Who Must Not Be Named was coming before he arrived at the door. At the time, my sister was at my house. She was the one who insisted we switch bodies. James had some Polyjuice Potion stored for emergencies and we switched bodies. I escaped with Harry, but we were interrupted by some approaching Death Eaters, who I could hold off with Stunning Spells, but they took Harry." The vacant expression suddenly evaporated, leaving a sad smile in its wake. Harry was painfully reminded of the insane joy that spread across Crouch Junior's face while he was being interrogated. He suddenly became wary of the empty shell that lay before him.

"What happened then?" Harry choked suddenly, stumbling on the words he forced out of his mouth. His tongue seemed to be paralysed.

"I fought for Harry, but I didn't have enough strength. I decided to play dead, and the Death Eaters left me. I waited there, for hours, until I knew that no one would find me, that James wouldn't find me…" The body gulped quietly. "I got up and walked away, knowing that it wouldn't be safe to try and find Harry. I left the country, travelling to Scotland and staying under the protection of some powerful witches, and a seer. A week ago, the seer prophesised that Harry was in great danger, destined to kill or be killed, so I came back here."

The silence was penetrating. Harry, feeling uncomfortable, said,

"That's all." As Tom left the room, Harry collapsed into the cushioned chair behind him, gasping – waiting for the effects of the Veritaserum to wear off, and for the implications of his mother's information to sink in.

And as he sat alone, with his mother's empty shell at his feet, he realised what it truly meant. Or at least, he thought he did.

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A/N: Again, very sorry for the long update. But please review... I need some criticism. If it makes you want to burn your computer... tell me. If you've never read anything as bad as this... I want to know. On the other hand, if you loved it... please tell me that too. ; ) Until next time... Adios amigos... 


	5. Meeting the Parents

A/N: Okay, there has been a little confusion with my last chapter; people saying that there has been a mix-up with info regarding Harry and his mother's protection. To those people, I have one thing to say: patience is a virtue. I am not a lazy writer – I did think about this, and I have an explanation! But still a big thanks goes to those who reviewed at all, and actually read it thoroughly to pick out the mistakes. Every word is worth something to me. So, enough with my chitchat… on with the story!

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Harry sat silent in the room, waiting for his mother to regain consciousness. Hours passed, and he could hear the quiet footsteps of his friends downstairs. It seemed impossible to him that they had no idea of what was happening only a floor above them. It seemed impossible to him that it wasn't common knowledge.

Finally, as the quiet of night settled over The Leaky Cauldron, Lily's eyes twitched. She lifted a hand to her face, flicking stray hairs away, and opened her eyes to look up at Harry. The look on Harry's face was enough for her to know that he was shaken and confused, and seemed to give her permission to stand and offer her arms to Harry.

Though she stood, shaking and tired, before Harry, he still refused to admit to himself – to anyone – that everything he thought was true was a lie. He had only felt this way once before, when he first found out that he was a wizard. To feel utterly alone, insane, cold – not understand anything that is being said by anyone. It was as though a dense cloud had surrounded him, blurring the outside world.

But now, as he was enveloped in his mother's arms, the feeling intensified until Harry was sure he could not bear it anymore. He tried to stay strong, his muscles around his chest and face tensing to keep the emotion in – until he could not hold it in anymore, and breathed out. Suddenly floods of tears fell from his face to the dusty floor, and he leaned into his mother's tired arms, sobbing.

There they stood unmoving, until Harry's tears dried up and his head pounded with dehydration. They moved apart slowly, Harry looking into his mother's eyes. They gleamed with love and fatigue, the watery effect waning and waxing slowly until it stopped altogether.

It took moments of troubled silence for Harry to fully absorb everything that had been said. When he thought – truly, deeply – his heart suddenly settled in belief.

He smiled at his mother, who gave a wary smile back. Linking his arm with hers, he led her towards the door. At her questioning look, Harry merely gave a small smile and said, "There's some people downstairs that you should meet."

Harry guided Lily to the top of the staircase, where he could hear the hustle and bustle coming from downstairs – but not from customers. Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Mr Weasley were seated around a small wooden table in the centre of the bar. The remaining Weasleys were just out of sight, wreaking havoc in the kitchens. Harry could occasionally see a flash of red hair as someone would walk past the slightly ajar door.

When Harry and Lily walked forwards, down the stairs, he gave a small wave to the table. Ginny looked up, saw Harry, and raced over with such enthusiasm that she knocked over a chair, startling the others in following. Harry let of his mother's hand for a moment to fling his arms around Ginny and kiss her cheek. Mr Weasley stood behind the group, his mouth opened in a surprised "o". Grinning down at her, Harry took Ginny's hand and turned to his mother, who also wore a misty grin.

'Ginny," he began carefully; "this is…" he turned to Lily. Facing her, he said, "This is Ginny Weasley, my girlfriend. " Lily's eyes twinkled in delight, and Harry turned to the other three friends behind him. "My best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger (they smiled uncertainly and Hermione nodded her head) and Mr Weasley, Ron and Ginny's dad. Lily's eyes moved with surprise onto Mr Weasley, who stared back, looking scandalised.

"Arthur?" Lily said. Mr Weasley blinked.

"It… it can't be. You're…" he swallowed before murmuring the word "dead".

Ron turned his head, confused, from Lily to Harry to his father. He opened his mouth and his usual innocent blunt way of speaking protruded through the words he said.

"It was very nice to meet you... uh…" He inclined his head towards Lily, turning his face to her. "Sorry, but who are you?" Hermione groaned, and surreptitiously slapped one hand to her forehead, the other finding the back of Ron's own. Harry grinned again.

"This is my mum."

The three Weasleys and Hermione stared in shock, allowing their lower jaws to hang carelessly slack. Harry broke the silence, saying,

"It's really my mum. Tom and I… we gave her some Veritaserum, so we know that she's telling the truth." Even as he said it, he realised how simple it sounded. Ridiculously. In normal circumstances, he would have said that the solution was too simple. But the pang he felt did not register highly on the scale, so he disregarded it- cast it aside. He could deal with his insecurities later.

No one spoke for a good few moments more. Harry could hear the hypnotising crashes of pots coming from the kitchen, combined with Mrs Weasley's loud yells. Finally, Mr Weasley spoke, embracing Lily.

"Lily. Lily Potter. But how? It certainly is a mystery. Where have you been, where are you going?" They all suddenly felt the need to bombard her with questions, but kept their mouths closed, tightening their lips so that they went white. Lily chuckled.

"I know that there's a lot of questions I'm going to have to answer. But we're all tired – and together. We're together," She gazed lovingly at Harry. "And that's the most important thing." Lily gazed around, a small smile written across her face. "Where's Molly, Arthur?"

At this, Mr Weasley gave a quiet cluck. "You mean you can't hear them?" Laughing amiably, he turned, presumably to call his wife over. As he walked over the kitchen door, Lily turned to face Harry and smiled fondly at the two Weasleys and Hermione. They all stood in awkward silence until Mr Weasley came back, Harry having slid a reassuring hand into his mother's.

Mrs Weasley, Fred and George walked slowly behind Mr Weasley. When their eyes landed on Lily, their jaws too went relaxed, and they stood frozen, unmoving, staring. Just as her husband had done moments ago, Mrs Weasley shook off her temporary daze and stepped forward with her arms open.

"I…" She stumbled over the words as they hastily left her mouth. "Oh, my." And that was all she said. Stepping forward only a few steps more, she reached Lily and pulled her into a lung-crushing hug. Lily eagerly reciprocated. When they finally released each other, tears in their eyes, Mrs Weasley turned to her children, Hermione and Harry, and said,

"What a day, eh? Maybe, we should all get some sleep. I know I could use some. And Lily could probably use some too, dear." Harry's mouth opened in protest, but Lily spoke gently, interrupting,

"I think Molly's right, Harry." Harry's heart jumped nervously at the use of his name. It was something he would have to get used to, he supposed absently. "We all need some rest."

Harry nodded mechanically, and leaned forward with his arms open. There was an awkward moment, where neither Potter quite knew what to do, but Lily held Harry close and kissed the top of his forehead, allowing him to sink into her body warmth for a moment before gently pushing away, and nodding towards the stairs. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny took this as their cue to leave, and trudged reluctantly up the stairs to the hallway.

Harry was numbly surprised to find Hermione and Ginny follow him and Ron into a spare bedroom. He did not know why: after all, Hermione was with Ron and he and Ginny had reconciled, but it still felt strange to him. Unnatural.

When the four had settled on the two beds, Ginny in Harry's lap resting on his chest, and Hermione next to Ron, his arm around her shoulders comfortably, they took a brief moment of silence to reflect on what had happened. Predictably, it was Hermione who broke the silence.

"Harry. I… you must be… well, shocked, I suppose." She looked at him, poker-faced.

"Yeah. I guess. Shocked, relieved." Ron butted in with a questioning look.

"Happy?"

The four sat in silence once more as Harry pondered on what he would answer to this question.

"I dunno. It still…. It still seems to good to be true. I mean, it's something that I've wanted for ages, and now that I've got it…" he trailed off, looking miserable. Ginny looked up at him, smiling.

"Now that you've got it, you don't know what to do with it?" Harry was startled. Ginny, he decided, knew him a little too well.

"Yeah."

"Harry, if it really is your mum, don't ponder on it. Don't over think something good happening, 'cause it won't end well. Trust me, I should know."

"I just don't want to push it, or overstep a boundary or something. Something that will mean that I'll lose them again." Harry said, looking away. After another moment, Ron spoke.

"You can't be worried about that, mate. She's your mum, she came back to protect you. It's shocking for all of us, but you can't let it get to you. It's just like Ginny said, you know, don't over think it. It's not good for you, and we'll get sick of you." He grinned feebly, and earned one from Harry.

"Oh, you mean like the Malfoy thing. Which I happened to be right about." Now that the conversation was becoming light hearted, Harry's head cleared. _Why worry about tomorrow? I've still got today_. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny gave an appreciative laugh.

"I wonder what happened to Malfoy. Stupid git seems like the type to let himself get caught red handed." Ginny said, and the other three nodded and laughed in agreement.

And this was how they spent the rest of the night, laughing and talking. Joking backwards and forwards, going with the conversation wherever it took them. They all steered clear of Dumbledore, getting a clear message from the look on Harry's face when Hermione absent-mindedly mentioned Snape. In the early hours of the new day, they had fallen asleep, resting on each other, supporting one another.

As Harry dreamed of family, none of the four were aware of the Muggle downstairs knocking on the hard wooden door of The Leaky Cauldron.

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A/N: Ooh, I'm so evil… another cliffy! If you want to know why Muggles can see The Leaky Cauldron, let alone knock on the door, you're going to have to review and tune in for Chapter 6 where the some things are explained, but the mystery deepens further too. An excerpt:

"**They can see us. There's just too many of them! In the last hour, fifteen or twenty Muggles have asked to come in," Hermione's voice lowered so that it was barely audible. Harry had to strain to hear what she said next. "We just can't keep up – and we're this close to being found out,"...**

All, or at the very least some, of the mystery will be revealed. Until then… : )


	6. Occurrences At The Leaky Cauldron

A/N: Hey - I know it's been a bit long since the last update but ITS ONLY A WEEK TIL THE SUMMA HOLS! WOO HOO!

Okay, my little fit is over. Enjoy!

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_BANG _

The colossal noise jolted Mr Weasley out of an otherwise peaceful slumber. He raised his arms wildly, flailing around until Mrs Weasley lifted her arms with a yawn and held her husband's down with surprising force.

"It was just the door, Arthur. Go and wake Tom, get him to deal with it" she snapped, obviously irked that her sleep had been disturbed.

"I don't know where he is, Molly."

"Well, go and deal with it yourself." Mr Weasley sighed resignedly, swung his legs over one side of the bed and stood slowly. He drifted towards the door, pausing to slide his feet into furry slippers by the end of the bed. He gripped the doorknob and twisted it, walking out of the room. As he turned to close the door, he heard quiet, but angry, mutterings. Obviously, he would have some grovelling to do when he got back.

_BANG. _

The noise ruptured through the bar again, reverberating through Mr Weasley's ears. He winced, and placed a hand wearily onto the stair case barrier. Walking down with his eyes half closed, he tripped over the last step in sync with a final boom. He stood up abruptly, walking briskly to the door and wrenching it open, trying to pull together a shred of dignity.

The man at the door stared for a moment before stepping slowly towards Mr Weasley.

"Oh, 'ello. Is this a new place, then? I ain't seen it before. Funny 'ow tha' 'appens, innit?" The man's Cockney accent reminded Mr Weasley distinctly of Hagrid. The man stopped talking for a moment, apparently only just realising that Mr Weasley was still in pyjamas. "Gawd, I ain't gotchoo up, 'ave I?"

Mr Weasley stood, incredulous, at the man's audacity. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, before deciding that he must have looked very strange indeed.

"It's six. In the morning. Why is _anyone_ awake?" he said with wide eyes, feeling rather proper against the man's disjointed pronunciation.

The man smiled sheepishly.

"Go' an early mornin meetin' wif the boss. I work in an electronics company, bu' I ain't been doin' well so…" He drew his finger across his throat, then looked past Mr Weasley and around the room. "This _is _a bar, ain't it? Jus' trying to calm me nerves, ya' know. An'… an' maybe it's a long shot, but I was 'oping you was open. One o' them twen'y-four hour fings - you know, or sumfink like tha'?"

This stopped Mr Weasley in his tracks. He had thought that the visitor was a _wizard_. He was, in fact, talking to a Muggle, who worked in eclectics. More to the point, why could Muggles see The Leaky Cauldron at all? As he pondered this, Mr Weasley smiled, realising his great opportunity.

"So, you work in an eclectics company, then? What's that like?" He gushed enthusiastically, and forgetting completely about the potential crisis that lay before him regarding Muggles and magic. The man grinned.

"Well I don' call it _eclectic_ bu' it's a li'l bi' odd I know- "

"No, no, not at all. Not at all, my friend. So, do you think that you could maybe explain what a plug does?" said Mr Weasley, not listening. The man looked uncomfortably cornered.

"I… I, uh-"

"ARTHUR WEASLEY!" A new voice, a woman's, had sounded. Mr Weasley gazed as his wife stomped down the stairs, shaking the wooden planks so that copious amounts of dust drifted down to the floor. Arthur stood, staring at his formidable wife who was walking towards him with such an air of rage that he could do nothing but open and close his mouth several times, giving him the rather odd appearance of a goldfish.

"I… uh… buh… um… you… uh…" He flinched under his wife's glare, and hung his head, only speaking to her when he was facing the ground.

"It's a… uh… sorry, dear… well, see y-you mustn't get upset, b-but this lovely chap was the o-one knocking on the… the, uh, d-door, and he-"

"I told you," Mrs Weasley said, "to tell him to get. So-why-is-he-still-on-our-doorstep?"

"Now, Molly, be reasonable…" But this was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"HOW DARE YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO, ARTHUR!"

"Now d-dear, he was a v-very friendly chap, you know, and we j-just chatted for a moment b-before you c-came downs-stairs. And then, you know, he s-started talking about _eclectics _or w-whatever it w-was-"

"He was a _Muggle_?" Mrs Weasley no longer looked angry. She looked frightened. Her husband, catching the expression on her face, instantly became very frightened indeed – of her. Mrs Weasley turned to the man at the door of The Leaky Cauldron, her face going completely neutral.

"I'm so sorry, dear, but we're closing. For renovation, you know," Mrs Weasley said slowly. She paused, trying to decide what to say next. "If you could pass the word around to anyone who thinks we're here, and if you could _not _spread word about this place… well, we would appreciate it." The man nodded with a strange look of confusion plastered across his face, and made apologetic faces to Mr Weasley as he closed the door – though Mr Weasley, still facing the floor, did not see them. Mr Weasley tried, once again, to calm his wife.

"I'm so sorry dear, r-really, I… uh… am."

"Oh, shut up, Arthur. Did it not occur to you in the teeniest bit how very strange it was to find a MUGGLE ON THE DOORSTEP! OF THIS PLACE! WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING_? HONESTLY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO WITH YOU- Oh, good… um… good morning Lily."

Lily Potter had indeed walked down the stairs, and was smiling at the scene before her, which looked very, very odd. Mr Weasley, crouching with his head to the floor, his wife yelling at the top of her voice, the door slightly ajar and a good two centimetres of dust and small bits of debris underneath and around the staircase.

"I… I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" Lily grinned. Mrs Weasley immediately softened.

'Not at all, dear, not at all. Now tell me, when was the last you ate? You're looking peaky, I'd better go and make you something." And the two women turned to the kitchen, leaving Mr Weasley to pick up the torn shreds of his dignity and get dressed.

Harry, meanwhile, was sleeping upstairs, Ginny still against his chest but this time asleep too. Hermione and Ron were moving about as quietly as possible, tiptoeing to get all of their belongings. Ron tripped over his trunk, sending the various things in his hands flying. Hermione frowned, and bent down to help him up.

"Honestly, Ronald," She whispered. "One of these days-"

"I know, I know, you're going to kill me, trade me in for somebody better." He muttered, mock glumly. She stopped, horrified.

"No, Ron, I didn't mean that at all!" Ron chuckled quietly.

"You know, you're quite cute when you're worried." He stood up straight and held her hair back, off her face. She smiled, reaching out to put her arms around him. He held her close, drawing in everything, trying to capture the moment in his memory. Hermione looked up at him, and Ron nervously bent down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. She smiled, and buried her head into his chest, holding it there for a moment before looking up at him again.

"Let's go and have breakfast?" She whispered, slightly inclining her head to the sleeping figures of Harry and Ginny. Ron nodded, and they walked to the door, hand in hand, and opened it. Ron doubled back to close the door, shutting it with a satisfying _click_.

It was about an hour before Harry and Ginny woke. Harry woke from a strange dream involving Luna Lovegood, raucous House Elves, and a stolen Hippogriff, feeling a weight on his chest that turned out to be Ginny's head. He smiled absently, stroking her hair, until she twitched and her eyes sprung open. She sat up and then climbed into Harry's lap, turning to face him, her ankles hanging over the edge of the bed. They stared at each other for a moment, before Harry moved his head forward slightly and kissed her full on the lips. She stayed there for a moment, bringing her hands around his neck and feeling his hands supporting the back of her head and neck.

After what seemed like an age, they gently broke apart, just as they had the first time they'd kissed last year. Ginny grinned as she recalled Ron's frozen expression of horror, disgust and disbelief rolled into one.

"What are you smiling at?" Harry said, poking her gently in the ribs.

"My brother. After the match, last year…" She trailed off, grabbing the hand that had poked her and grasping it firmly within her own. Harry grinned back at her, and they sat for a moment, grinning like fools.

"Hungry? Mum would've started something downstairs." Said Ginny. Harry nodded, grateful. He lifted Ginny off his lap, picking her up and supporting her under her knees and head. She threw her arms around his neck and held them together in a reckless knot, and Harry got up suddenly, making her give a small gasp of exclamation and surprise. He laughed, and put her down. She wagged a finger reproachfully before opening the door and heading towards the stairs. As Harry followed her, he realised that it was the first time he'd laughed in weeks.

_If this is what she does to me_, Harry thought, watching Ginny's hair swaying as she walked, _why the hell did I ever let her go?_

As Ginny and Harry got to the bottom of the stairs, they noticed very glum expressions on Ron, Hermione, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Lily and Fred and George. The twins were pulling grim faces at each other until they spotted Harry and Ginny, who were perched hesitantly at the bottom of the staircase.

"Oh good, you're up, dear. Well, the two of you go and get packed up. I've got a quick breakfast for you when you're done." Mrs Weasley said. Harry noticed Hermione and Ron's trunks already resting against the door.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked uncertainly, as though reading Harry's mind. It was a while before anyone spoke. It was Hermione who broke the disturbing silence.

"Muggles keep knocking on the door."

"_What_?" Ginny and Harry said simultaneously. Hermione exchanged a worried glance with Mrs Weasley before speaking again.

"They can see us. There's just too many of them! In the last hour, fifteen or twenty Muggles have asked to come in," Hermione's voice lowered so that it was barely audible. Harry had to strain to hear what she said next. "We just can't keep up – and we're this close to being found out," Her hand flew from her side and she waved it in Harry's face, holding her thumb against her forefinger. "We have to leave. Now."

"But where are we going?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. His bewilderment increased drastically when he saw Hermione and Mrs Weasley exchange yet another fleeting but grim look. Everyone except Ginny avoided eye contact with him. A voice echoed through the empty bar, and it was this time George who spoke into the silence, staring determinedly at his shoes. And though Harry heard him clearly, he refused to believe it.

"Grimmauld Place."

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A/N: Yay! That was so much fun to write, so please let me know what you thought so I can make it more fun for you guys! Thanks, and if you're in Australia and reading this, join in with the cries of joy: NOT TOO LONG NOW! )


	7. Forgiveness and Grimmauld Place

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP and I think you'll find I'm not JK. If I were, why would I be writing a fanfic?**

This chap dedicated to Bobbi

– For much needed inspiration and support… you know who you are

A/N: Um… thanks to Tori, Bobbi, Flick and Jerrrr… for their ongoing encouragement. Where would I be without you guys! And I know, I know… naughty me for not updating for ages – and on a cliffhanger too! I've been making some changes to the plot a bit, fiddling with it to make it perfect, so it took me a while to figure out how to write that. And this chapter goes a fair way into explaining what's up with Lily, as well as a few surprises. So, enjoy…

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"Pardon me?" Harry asked, mentally blanking out. He gazed at the group of people that stood, shaking and apprehensive, before him. Mr Weasley cleared his throat.

"Grimmauld Place. We… we decided it would be the safest option for us…" Mr Weasley trailed off rather feebly, finishing his sentence with what Harry heard as a half-hearted '_mumble mumble_'.

"Safest option," Harry repeated slowly. "Right, right. I suppose it makes sense." Harry had forgotten, again, that he owned Grimmauld Place, just as it had slipped his mind so easily at Hogwarts. He didn't really understand why he felt so shocked – after all, wasn't it _he _who suggested using it for the Order, when Dumbledore (he felt a pang of grief as he thought of the dead headmaster) had arrived at the Dursley's last year?

Harry broke his train of thought, walking over to the staircase and gesturing to Ginny. "We'll just go pack, then." He grabbed at Ginny's hand, and she gripped his tightly, startled. The pair walked up the stairs, hand in hand, until they reached the room that they had shared earlier that morning. Harry reached for the door handle, and turned it weakly. Ginny led him by the hand into the room, and turned to face him with her arms spread apart. He leaned into Ginny, allowing her to completely take his weight, and they stood there for a moment, Ginny just holding Harry, trying to absorb his pain and confusion.

They broke apart and took a moment to kiss before separating and filling their half-empty trunks with various items that lay discarded around the room. When they were done, Harry floated them through the door, and he and Ginny followed the trunks down the stairs to where the rest of the group was waiting patiently for their return. Mrs Weasley smiled briefly at the bewildered and exhausted group before her, before turning to the fireplace and grabbing a discarded Butterbeer bottle that hung next to it. She shook the bottle a few times, peering into the glass concernedly.

"Alright. Arthur, perhaps you should go first, hmmm?" She said coldly. Mr Weasley recoiled under his wife's angry glare and took a pinch of something out of the bottle. It was only then that Harry realised that they would be travelling with Floo Powder. Mr Weasley gave a quick grin, which went unnoticed by his wife, and threw the powder into the flames.

"Twelve Grimmauld Place." He shouted, and in a moment he was gone.

"Harry, dear, you next." Harry nodded and dragged his trunk over to the fireplace. He grabbed a pinch of powder, and yelled out his destination as he threw the powder into the fire around his feet. Harry sighed. His opinion of Floo Powder, as convenient as it was, hadn't changed much since he had first used it 5 years ago.

He still hated it.

When the entire group had safely arrived at Grimmauld Place, Ron, Hermione and Ginny took their trunks upstairs to the rooms that they had stayed in two years before. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs, grasping his trunk handle, staring uncertainly at his mother.

"We need to talk some more." Harry said, deadpan. Lily nodded slowly.

"Is there a place we can talk?" she asked. Harry nodded, and lifted his arm to point to the top of the staircase. He levitated his trunk up the stairs, Lily walking behind him as though she were his shadow, and made it sink gently down onto the ground outside of the room that Ron and he had shared two years before. He then turned to the opposing door, which led into a spare bedroom, and turned the handle to let his mother in, trailing close behind. They sat, unsure, on the bed, and it was minutes before either of them spoke.

"I need you to explain the story, again." Harry said, determinedly unemotional. Lily sighed.

"I had a sister. Not Petunia, another sister. Rose." Harry stared in shock as he heard his mother say these words. _Another sister_. _Rose_.

"Why didn't Aunt Petunia ever mention her? Why did nobody ever mention her?"

"Petunia hated Rose, even more than she hated me, if it was possible. Because of Rose's friendship with me, even though I was magical, and her association with magical people, to Petunia she was worse than actually being a witch. She was a traitor. None of my non-Muggle friends knew about her, except James. We just didn't think anyone else should know."

And as Harry pondered this, he was suddenly and inexplicably reminded of an afternoon, before Harry even knew he was a wizard, when Harry had been locked in his cupboard and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had had a conversation outside the wooden door. He didn't know why he had so suddenly remembered that time – he usually went out of his way to forget his years at the Durley's. Harry remembered that they had spoken in hushed tones, as though conspiring with each other.

"Found out something today. In _that _explosion, there was rubble everywhere, and they found… Roses, dead. I tried to ask someone about it, no one knows what happened." Aunt Petunia had said with what Harry could just make out as a grim expression between the bars on the cupboard door. But the more that Harry thought about it, the more that 'Roses, dead' sounded like 'Rose is… dead'. Had his Aunt been talking about her sister? Admittedly, Harry had thought it a bit odd to be making such a fuss about some _flowers_, but passed it off as just being 'Aunt Petunia'. Harry's theory would also explain Uncle Vernon's startled reaction.

"We'll just forget about it, Petunia!"

Harry looked at his mother, who sat so nervously perched on the bed next to him, and he was granted sudden clarity. Though there was irrefutable evidence to suggest that it was actually his mother sitting before him, he had refused to believe it, for the simple reason that he didn't want to. Her being alive would mean Harry would have some of his family back again, but it would also mean that anything Harry ever believed and was told about his interaction with Voldemort would have to be reconsidered.

These thoughts flew out the window and Harry felt his heart beating faster and his eyes filling silently with tears.

"I believe you," Harry said, truly meaning it. Lily took one look at him and broke down into waves of sobs. "I believe you, mum. Oh God, I can't believe you're here. You're here!" He gave a little chuckle, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "When I was little, I used to think that you and dad would somehow miraculously turn up on the doorstep and take me away from the Dursley's. I never thought it would, you know, actually happen. But it has, and I'm… I'm really happy you're here." He finished. Lily smiled through her tears and pulled her sleeve up to wipe her eyes.

"I've been waiting for so long to see you Harry. Too long. I didn't even know what you would look like. You look like so much like James. But my eyes – you definitely have my eyes."

"I think I've heard that once or twice." Harry said dryly. Lily missed the sarcasm.

"Where was I?" Lily asked after a beat.

"You were talking about how Aunt Petunia hated her, because she was still friends with you. So she wasn't… she didn't go to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"No. She was very bright, and her heart was in Muggle Science, so she stayed with mum and dad, went to Muggle school. But she didn't hate me like Petunia did, and stayed friends with me. On the night that James…" Her eyes swam, and she swallowed forcefully. "On the night that He came, Rose was at Godric's Hollow. She was seeing you, actually. To say goodbye. She was very ill, you see, and the doctors - or Healers – couldn't cure it or even diagnose it." Lily added quickly from Harry's questioning look.

"She was sick. Dying. So she drank the Polyjuice Potion. But how did you make it so fast?"

"We didn't make it on the spot," Lily said, tousling Harry's hair as though he were a precocious child. "James kept some hidden, always had a bottle on hand for a defence organisation that Dumbledore organised."

"Yeah, the Order." Harry said.

"You know about the Order?"

"There's one now. A new one. Not all the same members, of course…" Harry trailed off, feeling thoroughly miserable. He steered the conversation back on track. "So, Rose took the Polyjuice and changed into… you? And you into her," Harry said with realisation. "You swapped bodies. Then-"

"I left with you, disguised as Rose, and hid in an alley by the side of the road. I could hear them inside - Voldemort looking for you, Rose pleading and crying." Lily swallowed again.

"So, then what? How did I not end up with you?" Harry asked quietly.

"The Death Eaters attacked. They fired some curses at me, none of them actually hitting me. But then one came up to me, teasing, pursuing me down the alleyway alone. His mask slipped off, and it was someone I knew from school, someone I had believed was working for our side. I later realised that he was, after I woke up a few hours later, with a few cuts and bruises but nothing much worse. But James was... and you were gone." Lily buried her head in her hands, and Harry had a few awkward moments of comforting his mother as she cried.

"Who was the Death Eater, the one who didn't kill you?" He asked patiently, as soon as he thought she was capable of stringing words together without sobbing.

"An old enemy of your fathers, he was in Slytherin. His name was Snape. Severus Snape. I don't know if you'd know him."

Harry stared in numb shock. Snape. The Snape who Harry had seen, with his own eyes, murder Dumbledore earlier this year. The same one who was burned with the Dark Mark, who had taunted and insulted both Harry and his father. It seemed impossible to Harry that the same Snape that did those things would also spare his mother's life.

"Yeah. Yeah, I… I know him."

Harry and Lily left the room in fairly high but thoughtful spirits, walking hand in hand towards the staircase. Lily paused at the door to Harry's room, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. She smiled, oblivious to the storm of confusion inside Harry's mind, and turned to go downstairs. Harry turned the doorknob and set his trunk down in the dank and dusty bedroom. He sat on the bed, staring determinedly at his knees. Hermione, Ron and Ginny exchanged anxious looks and something of a silent conversation evolved between them – each encouraging another to talk to the slouched figure sitting between them.

"I know what you're doing, you know," Harry spoke suddenly, startling his friends. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a complete idiot." Ginny grinned.

"That's right, he's not – though he does act it. According to popular belief." Harry threw a pillow at her, but Ginny's excellent Quidditch skills allowed her to duck and an unwary Ron got a face-full of goose feathers.

"My point is that you don't have to be all nervous around me. I'm not going to start screaming at you – well, I might, but you'll be all right." He added quickly from Hermione's incredulous look. Obviously she hadn't forgotten the small shouting match that went on between Harry and, well, Harry, when he had arrived at Grimmauld Place for the first time.

"You right, mate? Mum's gonna' have a fit when she sees you later. _'Oh, he's looking a bit peaky_._'_ " Ron mimicked after he pulled several feathers and a harassed-looking duckling from his mouth. Hermione hit him. "What did you do that for?" Ron looked scandalised.

"Oh, for God's sake Ronald, I only hit you."

"Only hit- _only hit me?_ You could have taken my arm off! It's definitely broken! Ow!" he added meekly. Hermione appeared to be unconvinced, rolling her eyes surreptitiously at Harry and Ginny when Ron scratched his nose.

"I'm going to go and look around a bit. You know… work out what's what?" Harry said, after sitting uncomfortably in silence for a few moments. Hermione and Ginny (but not so much Ron) knew Harry's real reason for wanting to look round. He wanted to find something to connect him with Sirius again, to find his spirit within the walls. So the three of them looked on as Harry walked moodily out of the room, and there was silence between the moth-eaten walls for a moment.

"Where's he going then?" Ron asked, oblivious to the incredulous looks he was receiving from both girls in the room.

"You, Ron Weasley, have got to be the least perceptive and most idiotic brother I have. Including Percy the Git." Ginny said with her nose stuck in the air.

Harry wandered around the darkened hallways, jumping at various unexpected creaks. He reached the drawing room, and paused for a moment in the doorway before deciding to move on. Slowly, with his steps heavily _thudding_ underfoot, Harry made his way to the next ajar door in the hallway, and when he reached it he took a deep breath and walked in.

Inside the room was a bed with moth eaten covers that Harry tried to avoid – he didn't have any Doxy spray on him, or the venom antidote, and would have preferred to leave the room without having been attacked. There was a cardboard box resting against the wall on the other side of the room, and Harry made his way towards it. When he reached it, he crouched down and checked the box as thoroughly as he could without using his hands before lifting several heavy books from the box and placing them on the dirty carpet next to him.

He lifted the book on the top of the pile up and brought it up so that it was level with his eyes. The cover was black, but felt smooth, which heightened Harry's suspicion.

"_Specialis Revelio_." He said smartly, clasping his wand and tapping the book cover gently. Nothing happened.

Satisfied, Harry pinched the edge of the cover gently and opened the book. His stomach seemed to drop several inches – it was Sirius' diary.

_18th March _

_Prongs asked Lily out again today. She didn't go for it – called him a "pig-headed arrogant moron". Never heard that one before but managed to stop myself laughing. Feel kinda sorry for the guy, he tries so hard. _

_Slughorn getting on my nerves. Told me my hiccoughing solution too strong. I don't see what the problem was, it stopped his hiccoughs well enough. Okay, it was bright green, and it did dissolve the bottom of my cauldron, but I thought my effort was good. Moony got it perfect, of course. Snape sat in the corner, and whatever he was working on, it wasn't a hiccoughing solution. _

Harry automatically gripped the edge of the parchment tighter at the mention of Snape.

Got into the kitchens. Got caught by Dumbledore, but he gave me that smile, and walked on. Lucky it wasn't anyone else.

_Regulus isn't going well. He's getting all these detentions for skipping his classes. I think I know what he's up to. If anyone should be called a moron, it's him. Dear old mum would be proud if she knew. He's trying to keep it top secret, but failing, if I know about it. I'm pretty sure he's sneaking out to-_

Harry turned the page over, but there was nothing else written there. The text had just abruptly stopped. Silently cursing the page, Harry grabbed it and ran into his room, relieved to find that the others had ventured through the main hall and into the kitchen for some lunch. His stomach rumbled at the thought of it.

He reached for some spare parchment and a discarded ballpoint in his trunk, and carefully copied the diary entry. When Harry searched for others in the book, he only found pages of blank parchment. He made a mental note to ask Lupin about it as soon as he saw him next.

Getting up to go downstairs, Harry was troubled by a great lot of commotion coming from the entrance. Someone must have rung the doorbell and woken the insane portrait of Sirius' mother, who was presently wailing something about Mudbloods invading the "Noble House of Black". Harry walked quietly down the stairs, and turned a corner to see Mr Weasley talking to someone at the front door. Harry, overcome by curiosity, stepped behind Mr Weasley to peer over his shoulder and somewhere in the back of his brain he instantly regretted doing this.

He raged forward, trying to reach over Mr Weasley's shoulder and pull himself through to the front door, but was unable to reach as Mr Weasley, who was remarkably quick on the uptake, restrained Harry and held him behind his back.

His memory catapulted back to the conversation that he had with his mother, and Harry could only say one word, a single unrelenting word that reverberated callously through his mind.

That word…

…was 'Snape'.

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A/N: What did you think guys? Evil cliffy… What do you think is gonna happen? Give it a go – tell me your theories in your reviews. I'm interested – and there's a pressiein it for anyone that does. Be really creative… I know all of you guys are! Until next time… ciao… 


	8. Severus Snape

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP, I'm not JKR etc... **

A/N: This chapter is in two parts. Enjoy!

* * *

"Potter." Snape spat, showering Harry and Mr Weasley. Suddenly, something inside Harry snapped.

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU COME HERE TO THE PLACE WHERE… WHERE… WHERE _HE _LIVED, COME HERE AND PRETEND THAT NOTHING HAPPENED. WHAT, DID YOU THINK WE WOULD ALL FORGET HOW YOU KILLED HIM? HOW YOU…" And suddenly there were no words. It was as though Harry's vocal chords had simply disappeared. To Harry's infuriation, Snape merely sneered at him.

"Well, it appears that, once again, you have managed to let your oversized ego overshadow anything that anyone else might have to say."

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY!"

"Did it not occur to you, Potter, that there might've been a greater plan – or are you under the sad impression that you are the only being capable of _scheming_?"

"I… YOU… DON'T COME HERE, LOOKING DOWN ON ME. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE! YOU SHOULD BE…" Harry lost his voice again suddenly, a thought having occurred to him. "You should be in Azkaban. You killed him… you killed him," Harry's voice became menacingly quiet. "You killed him… and I'll kill you!"

Harry suddenly lunged forward, wand in hand, fully intent on causing Snape as much pain as he could. He longed to see agony and surprise etched across the _murderer's_ face, just as it had been on Dumbeldore's. Mr Weasley held Harry back, using his full body weight to keep him from running towards Snape. Snape, in turn, stepped backwards; he was apparently unconcerned that Harry was trying to kill him.

"Oh, be quiet you silly boy. You are not the centre of the world. Your anger is purely selfish. You are becoming more and more like your arrogant father everyday, and it sickens me."

And strangely, it was this condescending statement that calmed Harry, more than anything else could have done. He went limp against Mr Weasley, who looked rather fearful. When Harry finally looked up, he greeted Snape with a strange maniacal grin. He was becoming more like his father, and even Snape could see it.

"What d'you want, Severus?" Mr Weasley said, barely able to conceal his own clenched fists rage.

"There are many things that I want. However, I think you're referring to the reason why I'm here. I would like to come in."

"No, I think we're all rather comfortable with this arrangement, thank you." Mr Weasley said fiercely. Harry looked at him in surprise.

"I have taken great risks to come here – by my own choices. If you would prefer me to leave, I will." Harry and Mr Weasley just stared coolly at him, hoping for him to lose his nerve. Snape spoke up again after a few moments.

"It looks very suspicious-" But he was cut off short.

"It _looks_ suspicious… IT LOOKS SUSPICIOUS? HOW ELSE WOULD YOU EXPECT IT TO LOOK WHEN YOU KILL SOMEONE!" Harry exclaimed, slightly hysterical.

"Dumbledore asked me to… to kill him," Snape said, in what Harry deciphered as a feigned tone of remorse. Harry almost snorted with laughter.

"Oh, so let me get this straight. Dumbledore… he _told you _to join the Death Eaters, make the Unbreakable Vow, kill him, then proceed to try to kill me and disappear for a few months. Oh _sure. _That makes perfect sense."

"Before you say anything else, Potter, I brought some Veritaserum with me. As proof." Snape said silkily. Harry stared for a moment, feeling as though Snape had at last defeated him. Then he realised.

"Oh, I get it. Make your own batch of faulty potion; get us to believe it's real. What a plan, _bravo_," He ended nastily. "And as for you taking 'great risks' to get here, that's rubbish. Voldemort (Mr Weasley flinched violently) is the most powerful Legilimens in the world. Do you expect us to believe that you're more powerful than him? That you could fool him? _Coward_. You're too much of a coward to even think of betraying him." Snape stared for a moment with his mouth open, as though uncharacteristically lost for words.

"I have come with information," He handed Mr Weasley a cream coloured manila folder. "Take it or leave it."

And without another word, he spun on his heels and walked from the door. Harry stared speechlessly after him for a moment, before taking advantage of Mr Weasley's slackened grip and running after the ex-potions master. Harry grabbed Snape's arm roughly and pulled him round so that they were eye-to-eye. Harry held his wand threateningly under Snape's throat.

"If you come near any of us again, I will kill you," He whispered slowly, and his heart roared in satisfaction as he saw a glimmer of fear in Snape's eyes. "That is, if Voldemort doesn't get there first."

And with a satisfied smirk, Harry turned back to the house. At the front doorstep, Mr Weasley was no longer watching Harry or Snape, but examining the folder that he had been given. Without saying a word to Harry, he walked inside - leaving Harry to follow his shadow into the kitchen, where it appeared that almost everyone was seated. However, almost as soon as Harry walked in the kitchen, he was pushed out rather violently by a trembling redheaded girl.


	9. Broken

A/N: Part two!

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Ginny held him forcefully by the shoulders and steered him into the room next door, a sitting room. She sat him down (Harry was quite surprised at how strong she was) and then took the seat next to him. 

"I need to talk to you Harry. Right now." she said, unsmiling.

"What's going on, Gin?" Harry said, less than amused. Ginny looked flustered.

"Okay, straight to the point then," Ginny said, looking both nervous and angry. "Seeing _him_ arrive at the door just now, well, it made me start thinking – realising – some things about what's going to happen this year. You're not coming back to school, are you?" Harry met her gaze for a moment, then stared down at his knees as he lied.

"I am coming back this year." Ginny's look hardened, as though seeing right through him.

"Don't just sit there and lie to me, Harry. Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm sorry Ginny. I'm coming back, but not for long." Harry said, looking up at the redhead. He was startled to see how angry she looked – angrier than when he and Ron had caught her kissing Dean in a deserted corridor.

"When were you planning on telling me this? Were you going to tell me at all?"

"You don't understand, Ginny. I have to fight this on my own. I can't risk you – I can't risk anyone."

"Well, that's not entirely true either, is it? You can risk my _dear brother_ and Hermione."

Harry stared at her for a moment, horrified that she knew.

"How did you find out?" he said, after a beat.

"Since when is _Ronald_ great at keeping secrets? Do you think that little of me, Harry? That you have to lie?" Harry groaned inwardly when he saw her eyes glistening with tears.

"You don't understand."

"Then _help me_ understand." Harry paused, feeling trapped into a corner by Ginny's unnerving outward calm.

"I'm… I'm not taking them with."

"Oh, don't try that one again!"

"No, you don't understand," he said, and immediately silently reprimanded himself for hispoor choice of words. "I mean, they're coming with me the first part of the way, but I'm leaving them behind. They'll come with me to Godric's Hollow, just like I was going to ask you to, and then I'm leaving." Harry said, avoiding Ginny's eyes.

"What?" Ginny replied, completely taken aback.

"I told you, I can't risk _anybody_."

"You're… they'll find out, Harry! Or Hermione will, at least. You can't just leave them behind, not when they think you're letting them come!"

"Can and will, Ginny," Harry said hysterically. "There's nothing I wouldn't do anymore."

"Well, that much is obvious." Ginny snapped back. There was a long pause. It was who Harry broke the silence.

"Don't tell them, Gin. Please."

"Don't you dare call me that! DON'T CALL ME 'GIN' LIKE WE'RE FRIENDS!" Ginny yelled, tears in her eyes.

"Are we not friends?" Harry asked, horrified. It was a moment before Ginny answered.

"Yeah, we are friends. I'm just angry with you."

Harry breathed a short sigh of relief, though, truth be told, partly because Ginny had stopped shouting. He didn't want _this_ particular conversation to become public. Harry looked at Ginny, who was breathing heavily as though willing herself not to leap up and slap Harry with all her might. It was then that Harry decided that Ginny needed to know the truth.

"There's something I've got to tell you, I shouldn't have kept it from you and I'm sorry. But maybe when you know, you'll realise why I'm doing this. You know the stories on me in the _Prophet_, 'Chosen One' and all that?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"They're true," Harry said bluntly. He almost grinned at the astounded 'o' that Ginny's mouth had formed, but thankfully had the good sense not to. "I _am_ the Chosen One. The only person who has a chance of stopping Voldemort. The prophecy got smashed, you saw it smash, but I heard it all the same."

"What… what did it say?" Ginny said, all anger instantly forgotten. Harry hesitated for a moment before telling her.

"That in the end, regardless of what else happens, one of us will have to kill the other."

"Oh God, oh my God." Ginny looked stunned. Her eyes widened and she lifted her hand to her mouth, covering her lips.

"Now do you understand? Do you have an idea of why I'm doing this – what I'm doing it for?" Harry said, wanting to reach out and comfort Ginny. It took all of this self-restraint not to pull her into a hug, kiss her, and tell her that everything would be all right in the end. Ginny just stared into her lap for a moment, then dropped her hand from her mouth and spoke.

"You know, I think I've finally worked out what your problem is." she said. Harry was shocked, and without really thinking about it, got defensive.

"Oh, this should be good." Ginny ignored him.

"You don't feel emotion like the rest of us. Your whole life has been driven by tragedy: your dad – dead, your godfather – dead, Dumbledore – dead, your friends – hurt, Neville's parents – insane. But that's the thing. They're not your tragedies alone. _Our_ tragedies become _your _tragedies. Because you're the only one that has a chance of killing the monster responsible for all this sodding tragedy. So it's your responsibility. It's your responsibility," Ginny repeated, "but not your fault, Harry."

Harry felt uncomfortable, and so reacted instinctively.

"I know it's not my fault."

"Well see, I don't think you do. I think it's the reason why you shut yourself away. It's the reason we broke up, the reason why you're abandoning Ron and Hermione, and the reason we're sitting here, having this conversation." Ginny looked into Harry's hardened gaze, and stared at him until his resolve broke and his protective walls crumbled.

"I'm just so tired, Ginny. I didn't want any of this. I didn't ask to have to make a choice between being a murderer or being murdered."

"You seem to be under the impression that you have to deal with everything alone – including your feelings. It takes less to break a man."

"But Ginny, am I _not_ broken? Haven't I totally lost it? I don't even know what I'm saying half the time. Can't separate prophecy's and dreams and reality."

"You need all of us there with you Harry. You could snap so easily. You need people to love you, just like everyone else. You weren't born extraordinary, Harry. Your pain and tragedy that drives your life, your decisions, and your relationships – that's what makes you extraordinary. The most tragic thing about your lifeis that it's a tragedy in itself." Ginny said, and her tears, which had been sitting dangerously underneath her eyelids, broke free and streamed down her face. Harry's eyes burned, and he felt, with horror, tears streaking down his own face.

"I don't want to be extraordinary."

"Then let us love you. Let us be there with you. We'll balance the load. Let us share your emotion – there's too much for you to handle, Harry."

"I want you to love me." Ginny stared at him in silence as she watched him grow deeper and deeper into his grief. He lurched forward suddenly, gripping desperately onto her arms, and sobbed into her lap. She stroked his hair, and said something to him; though he did not hear her over his gasps and chokes.

"I do love you."

* * *

A/N: Hey, I hope this was as great to read as it was fun to write. Do you want me to cut back on the angsty/fluff, or keep it up? It's not going to be an ongoing thing, just sprinkled in occasionally, but if you don't want to see anymore at all, please tell me. Anyway, please review, it means a lot to me. 

By the way, if you liked my writing here, I've written another fic (LilyJames). Not quite as fluffy – there's not any at all for the moment. Just some fun. It's called "Poiché Il Suo Amore Durerà Il Suo Corso della vita". Go and check it out if you're interested. Please R&R.

Until next time, amigos. : )


	10. The Manila Folder

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never will own Harry Potter... don't make me say it again, it's upsetting enough as it is. Also, I use lyrics from the song, "With a Little Help From My Friends". I was never a member of The Beatles, so that song never belonged to me. **

* * *

Harry took a few moments of silence, which was punctured only by his heavy breathing, to reflect on the somewhat confusing conversation he had just been engaged in with Ginny. He loved her – he knew he loved her – and what he wanted more than anything was to have her by his side when he inevitably battled with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. But he couldn't. Quite apart from it being unfair to burden Ginny with such a responsibility and to take her out of her second to last year of school to do it, Harry could not bring himself to think of Mrs Weasley's expression if she was told that her last underage child was leaving to fight what would be a battle to the death. _But, on the other hand_, Harry thought. _Ginny would be in danger anyway. She might go looking for it, thinking that I don't think she knows how to handle herself. Of course she does. _Of course she did. And Ron, and Hermione? Harry was stupid to think that they would just give up, even if he Disapparated from them. All three of them deserved to go with Harry. _And they will_, Harry decided finally, ignoring the image of Mrs Weasley that kept popping into his mind. 

"We'd better get back into the kitchen," Harry said, giving a weak chuckle. "They're probably wondering where we went off to." Ginny nodded.

"Yeah. Probably."

"Erm, Gin?" Harry said after a moment.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do I look like… er, I mean, that I've been… will they think I've been, um…?"

Ginny looked at Harry, surprised.

"What, that you've been crying? Now is hardly the time to have turned vain on me, Potter!" she replied, grinning mischievously.

"I just mean… I don't want them to think that I can't handle this." Ginny looked at him. _Really_ looked at him.

"You're fine." she said. Harry considered her for a moment.

"I get by with a little help from my friends..." he muttered as he and Ginny made their way to the door.

---

The pair walked into the kitchen quietly, but they needn't have worried – the rest of the household was settled at one corner of the dining table and all had their heads bent low. Harry and Ginny let go of each other's hands, and walked opposite ways around the table to get a look at whatever it was that was occupying the group's attention. When Ginny reached the table, she tapped her mother gently on the shoulder, and received a startled gasp in return.

"Oh, Ginny, it's you! Don't sneak up on your mother like that!"

"What's everyone looking at?" Harry asked, feigning nonchalance. Hermione straightened and looked towards Harry from her spot at the table.

"The 'supposed' information that Snape brought us." Harry stared at her for a moment. Suddenly, all the members of the group straightened and looked nervously at Harry.

"We thought… we thought it best if- if you looked at it first, Harry." Mr Weasley said, grasping onto the back of one of the chairs for support, looking almost pointedly over at his wife. Harry was completely taken aback. He followed Mr Weasley's gaze, and sure enough, Mrs Weasley was looking both murderous and resentful. She had obviously been opposed to this idea.

"What? Why?" Harry said, suspicious.

"Minerva McGonagall came by while you two (Mr Weasley gestured wildly at Harry and Ginny) were talking. Dumbledore left instructions in the event that he might… well… that he wouldn't be able to give them himself. Apparently, he wished that all the Order's information were to be given directly to you, to be used or passed on at your discretion. "

"Oh," he said, not bothering to disguise the surprised tone in his voice. "Right. Er… thanks?"

Ron, Hermione and Mr Weasley shuffled over to make a space for Harry to pass through to reach the folder. Harry extended his arm and lifted the folder from the table. He frowned – it seemed very heavy for its appearance.

"I'll just take this upstairs, then." Harry said, his expression unfathomable, and he disappeared through the door. Hermione, Ron and Ginny waited a few moments before staring guiltily up at the stairs. They grouped together at the base of the staircase, away from the eyes and ears of the adults in the other room, who were busy with their speculation anyway.

"Were we supposed to follow him?" Ron asked uncertainly. Hermione and Ginny hesitated.

"I… I suppose so. I mean, if he didn't want us there, he could always just say so when we got to the door." Hermione replied.

"But don't you think he's been a bit… out of it lately?" Ron said, lifting his eyebrows so that hey met his hairline.

"Unstable? Definitely. But we're his friends. It should be… I mean, he wouldn't do anything to us." Hermione said. Ginny shrugged, her memory turning back to the conversation she had had with Harry not half an hour ago. From what it sounded like, he certainly _would_ do anything to his friends.

"I think we should go up there," Ginny said finally. "He can always just kick us out if he didn't want us." Hermione and Ron nodded and shrugged, and they began making their way up to the room. When they reached the door, they found it closed, so Ron rapped his knuckles across the wood a few times. When they heard Harry call out a welcome, they let themselves in. They were expecting the file's contents to be scattered across the floor, perhaps with Harry searching madly through it. However, they were surprised to find that Harry was sitting quite calmly on his bed, the folder unopened.

"I was wondering when you three were going to show up." He said with a knowing grin. Hermione returned Harry's smile with one of her own.

"So… are you going to open it, or what?" Ron asked bluntly. Ginny looked horrified and slapped her forehead repeatedly in exasperation. Harry laughed as she suddenly stopped and rubbed the red mark on her head.

"When are you going to learn, Gin, that hitting yourself hurts?" Harry said quietly. Ginny replied with a sarcastic half smile and walked over to the bed. She sat down on it, causing the folder to slide a little across the bedspread towards her.

"I've been trying to work out what do with it," Harry continued, and from Hermione's questioning look he added, "Open it or burn it." Hermione gave Harry a startled look.

"You can't burn it! Oh, Harry, what if it's got something terribly important in it. You might have lost some crucial information!"

"Good thing I'm probably not going to burn it, then." Harry said. Hermione gasped in relief.

"I think maybe you should open it now, Harry. Get it over with. If it's something nasty, better to find out sooner than later." Ginny said. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged quick glances.

"Ginny, before we do, you need to know the full story. We haven't told you everything," Hermione volunteered. "But you really do need to know the facts before we open this folder."

"What is it that you haven't told me, exactly?" Ginny said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Well, I suppose we should started with the Horcruxes…" Harry began, and he, Ron and Hermione spent the following fifteen minutes retelling Voldemort's story.

"So," Ginny said. "Voldemort split his soul seven times and put the pieces into particularly significant objects. Dumbledore destroyed one, the ring. Harry destroyed another, the diary. R.A.B, whoever that is, destroyed another - the cup. Dumbledore thought there were seven in total, so there are four more. You think that they might be something of Ravenclaw's, Hufflepuff's, Slytherin's or possibly Gryffindor's, and his… _snake_?"

"Yeah. Dumbledore said that he was interested in Nagini's behaviour, he thought that she was connected to Voldemort."

"You-Know-Who!" Ginny said, looking very uncomfortable and clutching her arm. Ron had flinched so violently after hearing 'Voldemort' that he had jarred Ginny's elbow.

"Okay, listen. I think everyone _really_ needs to get used to saying 'Voldemort'. We're going to be fighting him – probably face to face. Come on, Ron, Ginny, say 'Voldemort'." The Weasley siblings sighed, and spoke simultaneously.

"V-V-Voldem-m-mort." Ginny said, as Ron said stubbornly, "You-Know-Who!" The result was that Harry and Hermione heard something close to

'V-V-Voldowmoo'. Harry smirked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes in return, before she turned to the redheads.

"Close enough."

---

Harry carefully lifted the beige cardboard cover. Inside were several loose sheets of paper, but nothing appeared to want to nip his fingers off, so Harry confidently reached in and pulled out the entire contents. The sheets of paper were assorted documents, ranging from official Gringotts transactions to diary entries. The topmost sheet of paper was ragged – it was torn in several different places and had at least 4 different types of handwriting. Harry's stomach felt as if it had dropped several inches when he read the first line.

'Mr Prongs would like to call the Marauder meeting to order.'

'_Mr Prongs_'? _How did this end up with Snape?_ Harry thought to himself. Immediately, his imagination started going a million miles an hour, concocting all sorts of scenarios in which Snape might have gotten hold of this. He suddenly snapped out of his reverie, and saw that Hermione, Ron and Ginny had all taken a piece of the pile and were reading. Hermione had her hand covering her mouth, and she had gone very pale; Ron was looking like he was having trouble controlling a fit of laughter; and Ginny's eyes were wide (_and watering_, Harry thought) as she scanned the piece of paper. Forcing his attention away from Ron, who was sucking in his cheeks to stop a laugh escaping, Harry turned back to the sheet of paper he was holding and immediately became immersed.

'Mr Prongs would like to call the Marauder meeting to order.'

'Mr Padfoot agrees, and would like to add that it's a good thing that we had this meeting during good ol' Sluggie's class – otherwise he would have been sleeping.'

'Mr Wormtail would like to know why we have taken to speaking in the third person.' 'Mr Moony would like to point out that Mr Wormtail has a point.' 'I'm calling this meeting to order.' was scribbled carelessly in James' handwriting.

'Good.' Replied Remus' neat cursive.

'What's the meeting about again?' Harry grinned as he read his Godfather's message, and imagined the cheeky smirk that would have been etched across his face while he wrote.

'Padfoot! We're here to talk about Prongs' problem. With a certain Miss Evans.' Harry let himself smudge Wormtail's handwriting slightly. He did not want to be reminded of the fact that Peter Pettigrew was best friends with his father, Sirius and Lupin while they were at school.

'Right. What's the problem?'

'Evans refused my kind offer to take her out.' 'Again.' 'Yes, _again_, and thanks _ever so_ for your subtlety, Padfoot. Geez. You know, some people are actually _nice_ to their best friends.'

Harry grinned to himself. He remembered the occasion when he had taken Occlumency lessons from Snape in his fifth year, accidentally delved into Snape's memory and seen his teenage mother shouting at his father for being arrogant and egotistical. Harry had got the impression that she wasn't particularly fond of him while they were at school.

Struck by a sudden brainwave, Harry leapt up and raced over to the wooden dresser in the corner of the room, where a quill and a jar of ink were sitting stationary. Ignoring Ron's now hysterical laughter, he took oversized steps towards the pile of papers he had been inspecting, and dropped to the floor. Once he had settled himself, he dipped the quill in the ink, and went to label the top of the document.

"Marauders… meeting… regarding… James and… Lily… Estimated… to have... been written… sometime during fifth… or sixth… year… James… struggles to… get Lily… to go out… with him." Harry said slowly, as he scrawled the short message to himself. Satisfied, he looked up for a moment to put the quill back into the inkwell, and when he looked back, _the parchment had absorbed the writing. _Harry, shocked, checked the back of the sheet. It was completely clean.

He let out a yelp like a wounded dog, and leapt up into the air, jumping a few metres away from where the parchment sat. Ginny looked up, confused.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she said.

"The… that bit of parchment… it's _absorbing _the ink. It's behaving just like…" He did not have to finish the sentence. Ginny was already mouthing the words 'Riddle's diary". She stood, breathless for a moment. Harry was afraid that she was in danger of fainting from lack of oxygen, but, calming herself, Ginny took a big breath.

"Do you think it's… do you think it's another Hor- Argh!" Ginny cried, as a message appeared in black ink on the paper. Harry gingerly stepped forward, and leaned over to read it aloud.

"Oi! How do you know about Lily?" Harry recited.

Harry's stomach dropped several inches, giving him the peculiar feeling that he was travelling by Floo Powder. Ignoring Ginny's stricken expression, Harry grabbed the quill and wrote a quick message back.

'Prongs?' he wrote slowly, holding the quill above the parchment and watching a small droplet of ink fall and, a few moments later, fade away.

He watched as the word slowly faded away into the parchment. The entire group waited in silence, Hermione and Ron finally having looked up from what they were doing. Harry read the response that came next out loud.

'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, at your service.'

_But how could that possibly be? _Harry thought to himself. _Riddle's diary was a Horcrux, so it was connected to him, but how could this…? _

"Harry," Hermione said, approaching him cautiously, "I don't think you should write any more. It could be a trap or something."

"Or something." Harry echoed, nodding. He placed the parchment carefully down, and the group took a collective step towards the door. Hermione reached for her wand. It was sticking out of the back pocket on her jeans.

"Be careful Hermione, you're in serious danger of losing one or more of your buttocks if you leave your wand there." Harry told her, grinning, as he remembered the same advice being given to him by the eccentric Auror, Alastor Moody. Hermione gave him a strange look, and replied in a very dignified voice, her nose pointed to the ceiling.

"I know perfectly well how to take care of my own buttocks, thank you," She said, and Ron blushed as Ginny and Harry laughed. "_Specialis revelio_." Hermione said briskly, tapping the parchment gently with her wand. A mixture of green and black sparks flared from the parchment, and died down when Hermione removed her wand.

"I don't think it's safe, Harry." Ron said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess not," Harry replied, looking, understandably, disappointed. "So, you managed to dig up anything interesting? Something that _doesn't_ reply when you speak to it, maybe?"

"I found…" Hermione began, and muttered to herself as she rummaged through the large pile of papers she had been sitting next to. "I found… Oh, Harry." She faltered, and looked up at him for a moment.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron said. "Before we're fifty, please." Hermione shot Ron a warning glare and then resumed her nervous expression when her gaze returned to Harry.

"It's a list of spells, Harry. New ones – I've never even thought some of these things were _possible_…" she said, trailing off. Harry was quiet for a moment, before suddenly finding his voice, which felt as thought it had been hiding somewhere near his stomach.

"Like what? I mean, what sort of spells?" he asked, twisting his face into what he hoped was a curious look. Hermione looked at several different pieces of parchment as she spoke.

"Well, th-th-there are charms t-to prevent any injuries for a certain period of time, to protect objects… large objects – e-even buildings. Spells to _kill_, not just 'Avada Kedavra', but others… charms to bring back something that was lost, or to destroy something so that it cannot be repaired or returned, a-an object, or a- a memory… something to return a magical object to it's original state… the spell to transfer memories into objects, to transfer feelings into other people, to transfer-" and Hermione stopped with a loud gasp. She stared at the parchment, bringing it so close to her face that she went cross eyed. She pulled it away, her vision returning to normal, and scanned up and down the page wildly.

Harry, Ron and Ginny, completely oblivious to the reason that Hermione had suddenly become frantic, shared a look amongst themselves. As they watched Hermione spread the pages from her pile all across the floor, searching for something, Ron decided that it had gone too far and bravely walked across the room to his wand.

"_Levicorpus_!" he yelled, and in a flash of light, Hermione was hoisted up to the ceiling upside down, held by one leg. Ron, Ginny and Harry nervously stepped out of her reach – the ceiling wasn't particularly high.

"RONALD WEASLEY! PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW! UNLESS YOU NEVER WANT THE USE OF YOUR HANDS AGAIN!" But still, despite Hermione's angry ranting, Ron held fast. When the bushy-haired girl finally stopped yelling at him, Ron gently let her float to the ground, and she sat there for a moment, looking livid.

"Now, Hermione, I have two witnesses here." Ron told her, half smiling weakly at his joke. A second later, he regretted it, when Hermione stood up and held her wand at Ron's throat, her face red and her hair violently bushy.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING? NO? I DIDN'T THINK SO! I MIGHT HAVE BEEN RUNNING AROUND LIKE A BLOODY LUNATIC FOR A REASON, RON! HOW DARE YOU!"

"Hermione, what is it? What else was written down?" Ginny said, uncertainly.

"No, not until Ron-"

"Look, I've had enough of this!" Harry said loudly, obviously angry. "We don't have time for this sort of thing, okay? We need information, _now_, and I'm not going to just sit here and wait for Ron to apologise before you tell us what's going on. Is this how you think it's going to be when we start fighting with Death Eaters? I've got news for you – we've already started!" Harry said, and Hermione looked back at him. He was surprised and somewhat saddened to see that she looked ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Of course you're right. It's just… well it's… useful. Very useful."

"So, what is it?" Harry asked her, his voice softening.

"It's the details for… for making a Horcrux."

Hermione's words rang clearly through the room. The other three stopped in shock.

"_What_?" Harry asked, completely dumbfounded.

"It gives instructions… handwritten instructions… on how to create a Horcrux. It's a letter, and it's addressed to Snape." Hermione replied.

"Let me see that." Harry said, and took it from his friend's hands. He read aloud for the rest of the group from the top of the page.

_Severus,_

_We have succeeded in our mission. It has become obvious that Tom is still under the impression that we are in Azkaban. After so many transformations, Tom is losing sense of himself; he seems to be slipping. There are six more Horcruxes, residing in separate hiding places – the group believes that one of them might be found at Borgin and Burke's, and another in the care of one of his Death Eaters. _

_At your request, we have since discovered from Aberforth the method of creating a Horcrux – it is somewhat disturbingly simple. _

_In order to complete the spell, you must first commit a murder. Immediately afterwards, you recite, ' Abeis examplor substantiaer et transfora transtuliatum novoreplae'. _

_Correct pronunciation is essential – speaking it incorrectly will cause a mixed translation and it is likely to kill you by ripping your body in half. The object you wish to channel your essence into should be in contact with the caster's wand at all times. Seven small flashes of red light, which exude from the Horcrux, signify the completion of the process. _

_Give Albus the group's regards, Aberforth's in particular,_

_RAB_

_

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_A/N: Heh heh, cliffy! YAY! It's been a little while. So, please R&R, let me know what you think. Next few chapters will have similar interesting... events... so stay tuned! 

Oh, and a big "WHAT THE-?" to Vi. You know what I'm talkin' bout...


	11. Speculation and Invitation

**Disclaimer: Not mine, etc blah blah blah. **

A/N: Gawd, how long has it been? I'm sorry for the lack of update... but there _will _be a new update within the fortnight! Promise. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave a review, especially if you thought it was bad (but I'd appreciate it if you could tell me why). Thanks guys!

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A stunned, almost suffocating silence filled the air. The quartet stared blankly at the parchment, their thoughts occupied with dozens of questions. 

"I don't believe it." Ginny breathed. Harry nodded in feverish agreement.

"Is this real? I mean… how can this be right?" Ron asked. Hermione looked at him for a moment, and nodded slowly.

"Ron's right. Why would this be put into a letter? To make a Horcrux… Wouldn't that be _classified_ and _protected_?" Hermione suggested.

"Probably. But," Harry said, as an afterthought. "wouldn't it be possible to work out if this has protection spells and that sort of thing on it?"

"Yes, but Harry, if it did, we wouldn't have been able to read it." Ginny said. Harry frowned, as though annoyed at himself for not having thought of that first. Hermione shook her head, and leaned forward to put the tip of her wand on the parchment.

"_Specialis Revelio_." she said smartly. Yellow light flashed from the parchment. Hermione looked shocked, quite in contrast to Ron's expression behind her, which looked plainly confused.

"It… it did have a protection charm on it. I don't understand; we shouldn't have been able to read it."

"Maybe it deactivated after Snape read it." Harry thought aloud. At the mention of the word Snape, Hermione exchanged glances with Ginny.

"So we know that Snape was involved with R.A.B at some point." Hermione said.

"That's ridiculous." Harry said. Hermione's eyes smouldered.

"Is it?"

"Um, _yes_!"

"So, what you're trying to say is that Snape made up all this information, but that it's also useful?" Hermione snapped.

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Well, make up your bloody mind, Potter! Sooner or later, you _are_ going to have to accept that fact that Snape is not always the villain you want him to be. Wouldn't that just be so marvellously easy? To blame it all on Snape – the man who hated your father, and hates you? But it's not. There isn't just black and white, Harry – no good and bad."

"Snape is an evil, disgusting, git."

"No, Harry. He's a git. He's a murderer. But he's not evil."

"You just don't think it's possible that teachers could do anything wrong." Harry sneered, but he knew he was fighting a losing war. Now he was clinging onto stupid sidetracks, and he knew Hermione knew it too.

"Snape has information. You know that as well as I do… better than I do. Better than any of us do. Snape killed Dumbledore - I know that. But it's not as if I'm not asking you to have tea parties with him." Hermione said, and Harry let out a reluctant grin.

"With doilies. And pumpkin scones." He replied, and the two of them chuckled lightly. Harry paused for a moment.

"Didn't you say that there were other spells? I mean, on the parchment you found, didn't you say that… well, that there were other spells?" he asked Hermione, grateful that there was something else to discuss.

"Yes," Hermione said, running over to a pile of parchment and withdrawing three pieces. "Protection spells, killing spells – I haven't even heard of most of these – charms to bring back things that have been lost, like memories or objects. All very advanced magic, and most likely to be original." The atmosphere of the room had suddenly changed. All four moved about light heartedly, speaking to each other in a tone of restored friendliness.

"But dangerous, right? I mean, it hasn't been _approved_ by the _Ministry_." Ron said, giving Hermione a pointed look. She blushed deeply, snatching a bit of parchment from Ron's pile and throwing it at his face. The parchment hit his nose, and he stopped low to pick it up, rubbing his the end of his nose.

"So, good for us, right? I mean, we have access to spells that-" Harry began firmly, but broke off when he caught sight of the incredulous look that Ginny was giving him.

"Harry, first of all, we don't know that we're the only ones who have had access. Secondly, we have no idea what these spells will do." she told him.

"No, look, it says it right _there_." Ron argued lamely.

"That's what it says. But consider the possibility that Snape _did_ plant all of this stuff. Who knows what those spells will do? They might be designed to _blow us up_ for all we know." Ginny replied, and the group nodded in agreement.

"So what do we do next?" Harry had been about to ask, but he was interrupted by the sound of a small explosion and a scream coming from downstairs. The four looked at each other in terrified silence, before Harry stepped towards the door and Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed him one by one down the stairs, wands ready. However, when all four had reached the doorway to the kitchen, they were met with a rather unusual, and very comical, sight.

Mr Weasley's robe was on fire and he been trying to put it out by stamping on it. Unfortunately, his right trouser leg was snagged on a chair and his movement was restricted to pathetic flailing. Mrs Weasley was kneeling on the ground next to him, desperately trying to free the cloth from the chair and at the same time avoiding catching fire herself.

"Just move your leg, Arthur! It's not… that… DIFFICULT!" Yelling on the last word, Mrs Weasley pulled on the cloth with tremendous force and a large ripping sound issued from near the chair leg. Mr Weasley winced.

"My good robes…" he moaned piteously.

"Oh, suck it up, Arthur, you really do- Oh, hello dear." Mrs Weasley stopped, startled by the sudden appearance of Harry, Hermione and her two children.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide with mirth.

"Errol flew in with something – it exploded and your father's leg caught fire."

"A howler?" Harry asked. Mrs Weasley shook her head, suddenly filled with rage.

"A wedding invitation." She said, raising her eyebrows for emphasis. Ron, Hermione and Ginny burst out laughing. Harry turned to Mr Weasley in confusion. Arthur raised an eyebrow, giving Harry a half-hearted grin.

"Oh, 'Arry, eet eez my special day. 'Ow could you not rememberrr?" Ginny said, and again she, Hermione and Ron fell about laughing. Harry gave a start of recognition and embarrassment.

"Ah."

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I've just got to thank scowlingpixie for her encouragement in getting this chapter on it's feet. Her story 'Fun with Gred and Forge' is one to look out for! Thanks again, please R&R. 


	12. Oh Good, You're Up

**Disclaimer:** Not JK, didn't write HP. Just playin' with the plot:)

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" 'Arry! Eet 'as been too long!" 

Fleur's small voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and into Harry's ears. He desperately tried to fight off the blush that was spreading across his cheeks as she reached down to kiss reddening face.

"Er, yeah. Too long." He half-heartedly agreed. Fleur smiled down at him indulgently, staring at him for a moment before turning her attention to Ron.

"Rrronald! 'Ow are you?"

"Fine, thanks Fleur."

Bill stood next to Fleur, holding her hand with a strange expression on his face. They had come to visit, making preparations for the upcoming wedding. He had stood by with an amused expression etched across his features as his fiancé greeted the Weasley family (plus a few) with a delighted flurry of hugs and kisses.

Remus stood, holding Tonks' hand and greeting the Weasleys cheerfully. Harry spotted him, and walked over genially.

"Remus! How are you?" Harry asked. The werewolf replied with a warm smile before answering.

"I'm well, Harry. Got some useful information for the order about Greyback's whereabouts recently." He said, and Tonks whacked his arm playfully.

"Is that _all_ you think about? Honestly, I'm giving up on you," she said, and turned to Harry. "Wotcher, Harry. How've you been?"

"Not bad, thanks." He had started to say, but Mrs Weasley had noticed Tonks was standing dangerously close to some 17th century china, and called to her. Harry watched her walk towards the redheaded woman before turning to Remus.

"I've got something to tell you." Harry smiled ruefully to himself – it seemed such an inadequate begging to a sentence that would change Remus' life.

"What is it, Harry?" Remus asked, and Harry paused for a moment. How on earth was he going to phrase the fact that one of Remus' best friends was actually alive even though he'd thought her dead for 16 years.

"Well, my mum. She's… turns out, erm, she's… not dead."

"What?"

"Lily… mum… she's not dead. We found her in the Leaky Cauldron just after my birthday." There was a moment of silence.

"I don't know what kind of trick your trying to play on me, Harry, but let me tell you… it's not funny. It's not funny at all."

"Remus, don't forget. This is my mother we're talking about - my mother and one of your best friends. Why would I joke about something like this?" Remus considered it for a moment, his face angrily reddening.

"I don't know. I don't know, but it's not funny, and it's childish, Harry. So just stop it."

"But Remus-"

"Just _stop it_ Harry!"

"Go upstairs. Come upstairs and I'll show you!" Remus paused.

"You're not joking about this?"

"No! Just come upstairs with me!"

Harry stormed off towards the direction of the staircase with Remus pursuing him reluctantly. The werewolf marched angrily up the stairs after Harry, and when Harry reached the door of his mothers bedroom, he knocked loudly.

"Mum!" Remus jumped backwards when a female voice came from the other side of the door.

"What?"

"Can you open the door, please?"

"I don't really want to see anyone right now, okay?"

"Remus is here." Harry said, dropping the bombshell. He could hear Lily pausing.

"Remus? Remus Lupin? Moony, is that you?" Lupin looked absolutely shocked. He swallowed, and Harry could see his eyes glistening.

"Lily? Lily… is that… is that really you? How can it be? Why aren't you… why are you here?" Remus said, wildly stressing the beginning of his sentences. A tear wasrunning freely down his face now. Harry stood up, clearing his throat embaressedly.

"I think I'll go back down to the party." He said loudly. Remus didn't seem to hear him.

Back down in the kitchen, Harry spotted Bill and strolled over to shake his hand. He was surprised at how well Bill's wounds had cleaned up from his encounter with the werewolf Greyback. There were still nasty looking scars across his face, but they had paled remarkably quickly, and with the added help of magic Bill's scars would obviously heal well.

"So, Bill," Harry asked. "When's the wedding actually happening?"

Bill grinned as he answered.

"Next week." Harry smiled hesitantly. A week?

"Wow. That's… next week, huh?" Harry asked, and Bill laughed.

"We wanted to have the wedding before you guys went back to Hogwarts." Bill said, and Harry found himself looking away guiltily. Neither he, Ron, Hermione nor Ginny had yet found the courage to tell the Weasley's that their youngest son and only daughter would not be returning to school.

"Er, yeah." Harry said, clearing his throat. The two wizards looked around uncertainly, searching for a new conversation starter. Harry was suddenly struck with curiosity. "So, what's a wizard wedding like?" he asked.

"Not that different to Muggle weddings, actually. Guests, a ministry official, flowers, bride, groom, exploding Imps, that sort of thing." Bill told him. Harry, who had been in the middle of taking a large gulp of his butterbeer, choked.

"What? Exploding… Imps…" he spluttered, and took a moment to recover before looking up at Bill again. "You can't be serious."

"It's a time-honoured tradition. The groom conjures up some magical Imps, and the guests all explode them. It's like a gift to the couple – triumph over adversity, you know the drill." Bill said, deadpan.

"And, erm… does everyone have to explode one?" Harry asked. Bill grinned.

"Feeling a bit squeamish, Harry?" he asked, grinning. Harry saw a lull in the conversation and took it as an opportunity to move away from Bill politely and into the (moderate) quiet and safety of the entrance hall. As he walked up the stairs, he passed a grinning Remus, who nodded at Harry as he walked by, and Harry grinned back at him.

As Harry turned a corner into his bedroom, he heard a strange noise coming from the opposite room – Lily's room. It wasn't offensive at all, in fact he could barely hear it, but it was definitely there, a distant gasping sound. He crossed the threshold and swung open the door to his mother's room – and found her, sitting on her bed, her head in her delicate hands.

"Mum?" He said. Lily gave a start and looked up, embarrassedly wiping away the tears that made patterns across her cheeks.

"Hey, Harry," She said dejectedly. "Having fun?" Harry's eyes filled with concern.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter, sweetheart. Go back downstairs."

"Mum, I saw you crying. Obviously, something _is_ the matter." Harry paused for a moment, wondering if he was pushing too hard. "Tell me." It wasn't a question. Lily sighed before answering.

"Remus reminded me so much of James. They are… _were…_ so alike. It was Remus' idea for James to propose the way he did… has anyone eve tell you how James asked me to marry him?" She said, laughing through her obviously melancholy mood. Harry shook his head, amused. "We had just left Hogwarts – we were on the train – and he pulled me aside and told me something ridiculous. I guessed straight away that he was distracting me from something, you could always tell with James. No matter how good he was a getting away with something, no matter how intelligent he was, he was an absolutely _shocking_ liar." Harry laughed.

"So, he distracted you?"

"Mm-hmm. He did. Sirius came into the compartment and winked at him, and James got up and steered me into the next compartment along. He had bewitched his Exploding Snap sets to fly to the ceiling and go off at regular intervals. The effect looked a lot like fireworks."

"And he proposed?" Lily nodded at her son.

"And I told him to ask me again later! I said: 'No, you can't propose now! Ask me when my feet are on solid ground.'" Lily's laugh was a tinkering one; it was gentle, but it also filled the room like a shout would. Harry hesitated for a moment.

"You really loved him, didn't you?"

"More than anything. Until you were born, James was the only thing that made my life worth living. I had Remus and Sirius and Peter, of course, but James was different."

"He was the one you'd die for." Lily nodded, and then smiled.

"Sounds like you know a bit about it." She said, and Harry's face reddened slightly.

"So, I'm not ready to go downstairs and be happy for the couple yet. They just… they bring back memories. For Muggles, marrying someone is different. You can divorce your husband, or wife, if you want. It doesn't matter. But for us, for witches and wizards, marriage is about a truly eternal bond with someone. Sixteen years, and I'm not ready to give that up yet."

Unsure of what to respond to that with, Harry just smiled.

---

The following week was, needless to say, a hectic one. Various people from the Order were coming and going non-stop: Moody even popped in once or twice to congratulate Bill and Fleur. Ginny was constantly being dragged off by Fleur to some wedding shop or another (_Oh, no, ze coleur eez not quite right!_), which she constantly complained about, but Ginny had, at least, stopped referring to Fleur as 'Phlegm' in front of Mrs Weasley.

Harry's concern about how he was going to explode an imp come the wedding day increased over the course of the week, and mentioned his worry to Fred and George. His qualm, however, was met with identical evil grins.

"You actually believed him?" Harry had heard the disbelieving question through the wall of laughing and snorting, and resolved never to trust anything anyone from the Weasley family _ever_ said to him again. Barring, perhaps, Ginny.

The night before the wedding found Harry fast asleep as 7 o'clock – he was completely exhausted, and didn't wake up until 11 o'clock the following morning, when he was dumped rather unceremoniously from the comfort of his bed and onto the floor by a harassed looking Ron.

"Oh, mate. Good, you're up. Have you seen my dress robes? I swear to Merlin I left them hanging on my door last night."

"Good morning to you too, Ron."

"Oh, shut up. Just hurry and get dressed, mum's having a fit downstairs and Dad's set the eggs on fire again, we need you to come and help with the damage control. And where are my robes?" Ron stopped for a moment, and took a second to give Harry a lopsided grin.

"What're you doing on the floor?" The redheaded boy asked, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm getting up. Your robes are in the cupboard."

"Great, thanks," Ron said, and ran to the cupboard door, wrenching it open and yanking out the frilly robes that hung within. "I don't even know why I bother." He muttered faintly, and disappeared out of the room. Harry sighed, and shifted his body weight so that he was resting on his elbows before hoisting himself up to his knees and standing.

He dressed quickly, and ran down the stairs into the kitchen. Luckily Mr Weasley had managed to put the fire out, but the eggs were looking rather worse for wear.

"Here, Mr Weasley, why don't you let me -?" Harry began, but he was interrupted by a flurry of movement in front of him. A shock of violently red hair rushed into his line of sight.

"Oh, Harry. Good, you're up. Could you take these to Lily?" Mrs Weasley had suddenly appeared in front of Harry's face, dropping a pile of robes into his hands. "Fleur needs me over at her flat, I'll probably be there for a while." She told her husband with a darkening face, before forcefully clearing her expression into a smile and Disapparated with a 'pop'.

Harry smiled obligingly at Mr Weasley, and shrugged as he ascended the staircase that led to his mother's room. He waited at the door for a moment, then knocked. A shout of affirmation sounded from inside the room, and Harry let himself in. Lily was standing in the middle, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, Harry. Good, you're up. Listen, I don't think I'm gonna go today."

"What? You can't not go! Bill and Fleur, they-"

"Haven't even met me," Lily said, finishing Harry's sentence. "I don't think they'd be too crushed."

"But I want you there!" Harry said. He was honestly dumbfounded – _Where the hell was this coming from?_

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm not ready to. I'm just not. I'm afraid of what I might do when I'm there – wouldn't it be horrible if they were in the middle of exploding their Imps and-"

"You mean that actually happens? Bloody Fred and George!" Then, off her look, Harry continued, "Sorry, sorry. Go on."

"Wouldn't it be horrible if I just broke down in the middle. I don't want to be immortalised as the person that wrecked their wedding."

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course you won't."

"Look, Harry, I've made up my mind. I'm staying here. But you go! Have fun. Just..." Lily paused. "Promise me you'll dance with Ginny, won't you?" Harry rolled his eyes.

Harry made his way from Lily's room to go and deliver the bad news to Mr Weasley. On his way to the kitchen, he passed Ginny.

"Oh, Harry. Good, you're-"

"Don't tell me you're glad I'm up, for the love of Merlin. What, is this a bloody conspiracy or something? Did everyone get together and say 'ooh, wouldn't it be funny if we all said exactly the same thing to Harry tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

"I know I've been sleeping for a while, but-"

"For pity's sake, Harry. There's no conspiracy. Leave that to the people that are _actually_ out to get you!" Hmm. She had a point.

"Right, right. Sorry. You were saying?"

"Mum's back from Phlegm's and says we need to go, right now. We'll summon our clothes when we get there." And with that, Ginny sped off down the stairs, leaving Harry standing alone and very confused. With a shrug, he followed her downstairs and out of the front door, where Mrs Weasley was counting off her children.

"Lily? Where's she gone?" Mrs Weasley's eyes bulged when Harry told her why his mother was hiding out in a bedroom. 'Oh, for Merlin's sake… ah, well… the cat's among the pixies now anyway, there's nothing much more that we can do."

When everyone else had been accounted for, Mr Weasley gestured frantically towards one of the cars parked on the opposite side of the road and Harry suddenly found himself a participant in a race to get to the magical vehicle.

Everyone settled himself or herself inside the car reasonably comfortably, to Harry's great surprise. Even with magic, it had seemed a little improbable that they were going to fit Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, George, Fred, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Tonks, Remus, three owls (Hedwig, Hermes and Pig) and Crookshanks into the one car.

The car sped off down the road, dodging on-coming traffic and swerving around slower cars on the road. As it approached the church, the car slowed down and jerked to a halt, stopping right outside the main doors. The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Tonks, Remus and the animals forced their way out of the car, stumbling over each others legs and causing the owls to screech and for Crookshanks to claw his way rather painfully up Fred's leg.

Having appeased and properly calmed all animals, the group turned and walked to the church, chattering nervously in small, frantic bursts of conversation. Once inside, Mrs Weasley, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks sped off to the right while the men in the group turned to the left and into dark, dank change rooms.

"Just summon your clothes here, we don't have much time!" Mr Weasley called from the other side of Harry's changing room door. Thinking hard, he reached for his wand and pictured the bottle green robes clearly.

"_Accio dress robes_." He said, with a tone of ambiguity. But, sure enough, the robes came flying over the top of the small room's door and he scrambled to put them on over his jeans and t-shirt.

He sighed. It was proving to be a _very _long day.

---

"Do you vow to uphold the values and traditions that are attached to the eternal bond you are about to be imparted with?"

"We do." Harry let out a suppressed grin as Fleur and Bill had their first kiss as a married couple. The ceremony, as it had turned out, did not include exploding any kind of animal, nor was it at all tedious. It did turn out to be a lot like a Muggle wedding, however, and Harry noted curiously that Ginny's eyes filled with tears when the couple had read their vows.

Harry was much reminded of the Yule Ball of his fourth year when he stepped into the room of the reception. Flocks of women travelled together, casting their eyes around the room in the hope that they might attract the attention of a single man. Several couples swayed together on the dance floor, stepping rhythmically to the music. Harry swallowed nervously. Dancing wasn't exactly one of his talents.

He was sitting at a table, by himself, when he was approached by a familiar looking redhead.

"Hey, you. Why are you not dancing?" Ginny asked, poking Harry playfully in the chest.

"I'm not big into dancing."

"Yeah?" She let out a sigh of indifference. "Me neither. It's been a great wedding, though, hasn't it? I'll be sorry when it's all over."

"What? Why?"

"Because it means I'll have to say goodbye to Bill. He's a good brother – doesn't talk too much, but he listens. He'll be good with kids, too, I'd wager. That is, if Phlegm lets him near them at all." Harry laughed good-naturedly with Ginny.

"Our letters'll be coming soon. Are you… are you gonna tell your mum? About not going back, I mean?" Harry asked. He noticed straight away that the air between them had suddenly changed.

"I know that I've got to tell her soon. I can't let her buy all my books and things, and then have me off to Merlin-knows-where. I'm worried about her, though. Bill leaving, Charlie off in Romania, Percy gone, Ron going and then me too?"

"You wanted to come, Gin. You've got to tell her soon."

"I know," she said. Harry looked at her downfallen expression, wishing that he could help her. Suddenly, she smiled sheepishly. "She'll kill me if I don't dance, you know."

"Got to do something about that, then."

"Mm. Definitely." Ginny replied, and looked up to Harry as he gently took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He had barely got a proper grip on Ginny's waist before Remus came flying down room and started yelling his name.

"Remus, what's going on, what's the matter?"

"Harry," The werewolf swallowed nervously before lowering his voice to a whispering. "It's Lily. She's missing."

* * *

**A/N:** Ah-HA! Due to my lack of update, I felt the need for an extremely long chapter with many an interesting bit in it. As well as a tremedously evil cliffie... please update, tell me what you think! Oh, and thanks to Flick and Jerr for their inspiring proposal story. Again, sorry for the long wait! 


	13. Emergency and Firewhiskey

Disclaimer: I'm not JK, don't sue. Just playing with her characters. Also, this is not intended to encourage under-age drinking. My excuse is that in the Wizarding world, Harry is 17 and so old enough to get smashed… : )

* * *

Harry and Ginny stopped dancing with horrified expressions, peculiarly juxtaposed against the frenzied dancing and smiles that surrounded them. Remus stood in front of them, wringing his hands with an angst-driven anxiety.

"What?" They said together, in disbelief. The Werewolf stepped forward, avoiding Harry's worried gaze.

"I Apparated back to Grimmauld Place – to check on her, see if she was okay by herself. I knocked on her door, called for her, but she didn't answer, and when I opened it… she was gone."

"Did she say anything to you? Anything at all about where she might be?" Harry said, beginning to feel hysteria coming on, and gesturing emphatically as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Harry. She didn't say anything."

"Nothing? Nothing at all? Think _very_ hard, Remus. You've known her for ages! Where might she go?" Harry said. Suddenly, he was struck with a thought that almost crippled him to consider it for too long. "Can Death Eaters get into the house?"

"You don't think…?" Ginny asked, quiet but a definite air of urgency surrounding her delicate features as she turned to Harry.

"They couldn't," Remus interrupted. "They house belongs to you, Harry. Just calm down and think for a minute. Unless she went outside the house-"

"Could she have done that?" Harry asked. His eyes were glistening now. Ginny looked at him, a wave of pity washing over her. He looked completely lost.

"It's possible – but very unlikely, Harry. Lily's not a stupid women, nor is she incompetent."

"But if she did? What if she did go outside, and got kidnapped or something!" Harry ranted, breathing heavily. Ginny put a hand on his shoulder forcefully.

"Remus is right – you need to calm down about this. Why don't you Apparate back with Remus? Have another look – chances are, she just went to the loo or something. D'you want me to let anybody know you're gone?" Harry considered her for a moment, feeling completely at sea.

"Uh… yeah, yeah. Tell her… tell your mum we've gone back to check on Lily." Ginny nodded and turned, looking for her mum. She spotted her over by the bar, trying to mediate a fight that was breaking loose between Mundungus Fletcher and the Weasley twins. Ginny rolled her eyes as she made her way towards the argument. Harry watched her go for a moment, and turned back to Remus, who was watching him with an open mouth.

"Have you got your licence yet?" he asked. Harry shook his head, 'no'. Remus sighed, and gripped Harry's shoulder firmly. "Hold on."

Harry felt the familiar feeling of intense pressure on his body. His eyes were being pushed into the back of his head, his lungs were about to collapse, his heart about to stop beating - and suddenly it stopped. It appeared he _was_ getting used to the strange sensation.

Remus ran off towards the staircase as soon as they had arrived, yelling Lily's name with hope. Harry followed suit, running up the stairs and sliding to a halt outside his mother's bedroom door.

"Lily? LILY! Are you around?" Harry paused for a moment, and when he didn't hear a response, panic washed over him and he frantically rattled the doorknob. "MUM!" A meek voice travelled through the door, followed by a yawn.

"Harry? What are you doing here – why aren't you at the Wedding?" Harry ignored the chastising tone of his mother's voice; at least she hadn't been kidnapped.

"Mum? You alright in there?" Harry asked in what he hoped came across as a casual voice. There was a pause.

"Is everything okay, Harry?" Harry hesitated for a moment as well, before opening his mouth to speak. Unfortunately, he didn't have a chance to answer his mother because Remus had come bounding back down the corridor and had stopped with an almost farcical expression etched on his face.

"Lily? Lily! Oh, thank Merlin! Why didn't you answer me when I called for you before?"

"I did! What are you talking about! You were yelling, so I yelled back... it was pretty much a screaming match." Lily shouted. Harry paused to consider the irony of it all.

"You mean, kind of like the one we're having now? Mum, this is ridiculous. Can you open the door, please?" There was a pause, before Harry heard the scraping of metal and the wooden door swung open. Lily stood, just across the threshold from Harry, her face reddening.

"Sorry." Lily said, but Harry didn't hear her apology. He was staring at Remus, who had another strange expression on his face – this one a look of confusion.

"Where'd you go?" Remus asked. Harry exchanged a significant look with Lily.

"I'm… right here." Harry said. Remus waved it away with this hand.

"No, not you. Lily! Where…where is she?" Lily looked at Remus, straight in the eye.

"Um… here!" Lily said. Remus jumped nearly a mile out of his skin.

"Lily?" Remus asked to the room in general, and then turned to Harry, lowering his voice concernedly. "Is she in here?" Harry nodded slowly, and Remus rubbed his eyes with vigour.

"Remus, are you alright?" Harry asked. Lily looked quite startled at her best friend's sudden leave from sanity… and sight.

"I can't see her. I can see you… I can see the furniture… I can't see her!"

"He can't see me? So, he's… Remus' a sodding basket case!" Lily said jokingly. Remus swivelled to the direction of he voice.

"Remus can hear you!" the Werewolf said hysterically. Harry snorted, then gave an apologetic look to Remus before turning back to his mother. Lily stepped towards Remus, and gently poked the Werewolf in the eye. She paused when he didn't react at all.

"Could you feel that?" Harry asked. Remus' eyes bulged.

"Feel _what_, exactly?"

"Okay, what the _bloody hell_ is going on?" Harry asked loudly, gesturing madly to both Lily and Remus, who was now rubbing his temples.

"And… I haven't had _any_ Firewhiskey?" Remus asked wildly. Harry almost laughed, but thankfully had the good sense not to. It seemed ridiculous to him that Remus, of all people, was losing his cool so quickly.

"Not that I know of!" Harry said, and jumped when Remus suddenly went flying out of the room and ran downstairs, muttering wildly about 'finding the bottle – it's here somewhere!' Lily and Harry stood in silence for a moment, the quiet only punctured by the sounds of rummaging coming from downstairs. Lily looked miserably at Harry.

"It's me, isn't it? It's not him – it's me! I've been away for so long that I've made myself invisible! I was scared of you all seeing me… so I've gone and made myself invisible! You can see me because you believed me, but I was so scared that Remus wouldn't and now he can't see me at all!" Lily said, her eyes filling with anxious tears. Harry was about to utter words of reassurance to his terrified mother, but he was interrupted with a yell of fury that vaulted from the kitchen.

"WHERE'S THAT SODDING FIREWHISKEY?"

---

"Remus?" The Boy-Who-Lived had wandered hesitantly down to the kitchen after having a brief (and rather concerned) chat with his mother, who seemed, quite rightly in Harry's opinion, worried for Remus' sanity. Harry walked towards the kitchen, and paused at the door. It was a moment before he heard a drunken grunt, and he took it as an invitation to join the Werewolf.

The room reeked of Firewhiskey. Remus was seated at the table, drinking from a large bottle filled with amber liquid. Harry stared, incredulous, as his mentor (who had previously seemed to be the most composed of all the people Harry knew) shuddered with the effect of the alcohol.

An obnoxious snort broke the silence, to which Harry jumped.

"I know what you've come to – to – to tell me. Well, you're not stopping me drinking, so don't try." Remus said drunkenly. Harry looked at him curiously before surprising even himself and drawing up a chair.

"I'm not here to stop you," he said, and pulled the bottle from Remus' hands and put the opening to his mouth. He shook violently with the sharp taste, and immediately felt his peripheral vision blurring rather pleasantly. "Strong stuff, this," he remarked, and Remus replied with an enthusiastic nod. There was a long silence.

"Long time I've known you're mother," Remus said unexpectedly. "She always managed to surprise me." Again, he snorted, and Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable at seeing the Werewolf in such a state.

"She seems the type," Harry told him, reaching for the bottle again.

"Hmmm. It was such a bloody long time coming, her and James." Remus said. Harry knew the Firewhiskey was taking its toll – Remus' speech was becoming disjointed and incoherent.

"Yeah, heard that story, mate. Seventh year, blah-di-blah. Snape, blah-di-blah. Slughorn, star student, Head Boy and Girl, blah-di-blah. Sorry, Hagrid and Du- McGonagall already painted that picture." Even in his drunken state, Remus sensed Harry's sudden change of words, and promptly snorted yet again.

"Yeah, well. We actually enjoyed those times, so you'll just have to stick it, won't you?" Remus told him. Harry sighed.

"I suppose," he replied as he took the Firewhiskey from Remus' hands.

---

Lily was bored. She had been alone in her room for hours, deciding it best to leave Harry and Remus alone. After an hour, when it had become evident that her son wouldn't be returning anytime soon, Lily had searched her room for something to keep her entertained, and entertainment indeed she had found: an… _eccentric_… magazine called 'The Quibbler'. She had since learned that the current Minister for Magic was, in fact, a Muggle who knew no magic, that Sirius had been a singing sensation, and that Harry was planning to defeat Voldemort using a combination of fairy floss and hair gel.

"They only come out in magazines," she said to herself, smirking. Lily dropped The Quibbler onto her neat bedspread and sauntered lightly over to the door, pressing her ear to the wood. Silence.

Curious, she swung the door open and walked towards the staircase where she once again gave a moment of pause. Still, silence. Confused by the oddity of the situation, Lily was compelled forward and down the stairs, but almost completely lost her balance when a scream of laughter burst from the kitchen caught her off guard. However, what she saw when she ventured to the bottom of the stairs and peeked into the kitchen would take much more out of her than a fall down the large, sweeping staircase of Grimmauld Place ever could.

"And _then_," Harry was slurring, drunkenly lifting a glass glass to his mouth and taking a gulp, "Ginny came in and told _me_ that the _fabulous_ Ronnikins Weasley told _her_ about us not going back to… to…" Harry paused. "Wogharst. Yes – wait, no. Wait," he swallowed. "Wog – Hog – Hog… school!" He yelled, whooping triumphantly.

A roar of guttural laughter erupted from the small circle of wizards, the room seeming to tremble under the weight of their hilarity. Lily's eyes widened at the group of people sitting in the room – her son, Remus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks and George and Arthur Weasley were seated around the table, all obviously _completely_ smashed. Lily edged forward nervously.

"Erm," she stuttered, "What's going on?"

It seemed as though none of the group had noticed her until then. They looked up sharply at the same time, and George, Arthur, Harry and Remus grinned widely when they realised it was her. Harry jumped up unsteadily and reached a heavy arm out towards his mother.

"Shacklebolt, Tonks, this is…" Harry coughed roughly. "My mother, Lily Evans Potter! Wait – no. Yes!" Then, as an afterthought, he added, "What's your middle name, Mum?"

Lily was, needless to say, shocked beyond belief.

"Harry James Potter!" Lily yelled, and Harry's face was suddenly written over with an expression of extraordinary fear. "Have you been drinking?" George chuckled loudly at this. Harry shushed him angrily.

"Just a little bit, mum." Harry said, cowering slightly. Lily looked at the five adults incredulously.

"And you _let_ my son drink Firewhiskey?" At this, Arthur stood up.

"Now, Lily, Harry is 17 and well within his rights to have a bit of tipple now and then-"

"A BIT OF TIPPLE? THE LOT OF YOU ARE BLOODY DRUNK!"

"Nah, mum, it's like Mr Weasley said. I can drink, so I will." Harry said. Lily glared at him for a moment more, before sighing and sitting in the nearest vacant seat at the table.

"Well, if you can't beat 'em," she said to herself as she took the bottle from Remus. Beside her, Harry snorted.

"Here's to that."

---

"Why'd you think Remus couldn't see Lily afore?" Tonks was saying sleepily. The Firewhiskey had long run out, Remus having savoured the last drop for as long as he possibly could, but the effect still hung about the room like a low amber cloud.

"It's quite simple, I think," Remus began unsteadily. "I have simply lost my mind." The others murmured fractured agreements.

"It would explain _a lot_." Harry said, and Lily grinned sleepily at him.

"I'd put it down to being in the Order for so bloody long," Remus continued, as though Harry hadn't spoken. "Going on secret missions and keeping secrets takes a lot out of you, you know."

"Secrets?" Tonks lifted her head from the table to gaze up at Remus. "We've all got to keep secrets. Like the fact that I was sorted into Slytherin, but Dumbledore had to change my House to Gryffindor."

Remus looked at her, appearing to be mildly interested, and said slowly, "Really? I never would have picked it."

Tonks nodded her head fervently.

"Oh, yeah." She continued. "I couldn't stay in Slytherin, the boys would have eaten me alive." Harry chuckled quietly at this, memories of giant spiders attacking Ron and him in their second year filling his head.

"I dunno," the Boy-Who-Lived told her. "Nothing can eat you quite like Acroman- big spiders." He received very strange looks from all present at the table, and Harry waved them off with a lazy flick of his wrist.

"You think giant spiders is something?" Remus scoffed.

"Well, yeah." Tonks replied, managing to put her back straight against the back of the chair.

"Pfft. That's nothing. Infiltrating Voldemort's ranks? That's something. Battling werewolves? That's something. Trying to work out how to stop Harry Potter from going after Voldemort this year because of a previously unknown secret prophecy, _that's_ something." Remus said. Harry laughed along with the rest, and then stopped suddenly.

"What?" He demanded, seeming to instantly shake off the effect of the Firewhiskey. There was a guilty pause.

"Whoops."

* * *

A/N: So, how was that? Sorry about the lack of update for so long. I realise it's cost me a lot of reviewers, but if you liked it (or didn't) please let me know!

I'll try to be faster with my updating, I promise!


	14. In Hiding

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not JK, ya-da ya-da ya-da. Enjoy!**

* * *

The candles had been extinguished for weeks, he could tell. They sat, dusty, forlorn and dark, on the top shelves of bookcases, glowing slightly in the darkness. It was quite saddening to see. The dirty room was filled with an impenetrable darkness, so thick it felt as though he would have to work to even walk through it. Clenching his fists, he turned angrily to the blonde woman who had followed him in, cursing under his breath. Desperate for something to distract him, he glanced around, trying to make out the various shapes of his surroundings. Even as he squinted, he couldn't quite discern defined objects, any hint of an outline blurring as he tried to focus on it. The whole atmosphere of the room was vaguely threatening, and it made him uncomfortable. There was another moment of silence before he heard the woman beside him draw breath, and she began to speak.

"I have apologised. I didn't mean to insinuate that-"

"Insinuate _what_, Bella? Insinuate what?" He said irritably, cutting across the woman who had been speaking, harshly gripping her wrist and pulling her down to the ground where he sat.

"That it wouldn't work. But, after all, we're talking about the greatest mission that the Order of the Phoenix has ever had to deal with," Bella told him, smirking slightly. "And you would do well, dear husband, to accept that."

"We must have faith!"

"Maybe you have a little too much faith! Dumbledore, for all his faults, understood the power of faith. The power of belief. And knew that it was enough to drive men mad. Faith is quite one thing, but when a man is so blinded by the passion of his faith that he cannot see what lies in front of him, he needs to know where to draw the line! Dumbledore knew that well."

"Because Dumbledore has been _so_ good to us before." The man replied, sarcasm obvious in his voice. There was an angry pause as Bella stopped to consider what her husband had been saying.

"Watch your tongue, Rodolphus," she said warningly. "He did us well."

"And still, he is gone," Rodolphus snapped. "Look at your surroundings, Bella. You are stuck hiding, moving from place to place, finding abandoned homes like _this_ one just to keep a roof over our heads, and on the run from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. _This_ is the life that we are living – because Dumbledore did well by us."

"He could not prevent what happened!" Bella cried, immediately defensive. "Our capture was due to our own carelessness, you foolish man!"

"There is no point blaming ourselves, Bella. Now, we are all we have left to live with."

"There is no point in blaming dead men, either! For we only have ourselves and our guilt to live with!" At this, the man scoffed.

"Our guilt? What have we to feel guilty of? We have not betrayed-"

Bella interrupted her husband with an angry 'tut', exclaiming loudly, "Whom have we not betrayed? And if we have not yet betrayed them, whom are we soon to betray? I would have thought that you, of _all_ people in _all_ situations, would have known that the world is not merely black and white. We, now, reside in grey-scale."

Rodolphus began to retort angrily, but he could not stop a reluctant smile from tugging at his lips. He chuckled, and felt Bellatrix jump, startled, beside him. Bewildered, she gazed up at the barely perceptible shaking form of her husband, and, with a noticeable degree of uncertainty, gave a small laugh.

"At least we understand the gravity of our situation," Rodolphus said. "The Order of the Phoenix members, especially That Potter Boy, has no idea of what they're dealing with."

"Well, they have not dealt with the same things that we have. And That Potter Boy, as you so eloquently named him, is still seventeen years. Barely of Age."

"He should know, though, don't you think?" he questioned, glancing over at his wife. "After all, he may only be seventeen, but he has faced more than most have in their lifetimes."

Bella gave another chuckle. "You sound like Dumbledore." Rodolphus sighed patiently beside her.

"I don't mean to, you know." He said, but chuckled along with her all the same. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. He sighed again, melancholy, before stopping himself. "It won't be long before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named realises what has happened. We must move on soon."

And then, with just one sentence, the atmosphere in the room had shifted. It was as though the pair had only just properly considered the depressing intimidation that seemed to be painted into the walls of the empty house they had taken refuge in.

"Do you think it was wise? What we did?" Bella asked, her voice shaking in fear. Rodolphus turned to her and smiled softly.

"I think it was the best thing we could have done. Staying would have only led to our deaths. Neither of us is particularly accomplished at Occlumency, and He is the most talented Legimens in the world. It would have been foolish to stay. And," he added, as though it were an after thought, "what would we have done during the time when we remained inconspicuous anyway? Spy? Snape barely manages it, you can see what a toll it takes on him-"

"Anything Snape can do, we could do tenfold. However, you are right. We must just keep travelling until we find what we are looking for."

There was another long pause in which the pair of them considered their circumstances, weighing their options. _You always have options_, Rodolphus thought bitterly. _Always. _And yet, they struggled with their situation. They struggled to accept what had happened: to them, to the world, to the fight against Voldemort.

"I can see the darkness spreading across the world," Bella had said to him soon after the pair had escaped. "It smears itself across the face of humanity, scarring our beliefs and the good name of wizard kind. It's like a poison, like vermin, a common garden rat – violence breeds fear, fear breeds anger, anger breeds violence. And in that way, the circle continues."

But had they not broken the circle? The couple had chosen to break away from their circumstances, but, as a result from theirregrettable decision,this was their current condition. It was not in either wizard's blood to run away. It was against everything that they had learnt and knew. But still, they ran, because in the end, running was the only thing they could have done. And it sickened them.

He felt stupid, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Useless, and stupid, and helpless. Rodolphus was always the man who knew what to do. Bella was always the woman who got the job done – that was part of the reason he had fallen in love with her. He almost smiled as he thought of the first time they met, back at that damnation of a school, but his temporary contentment was quickly shattered when he shook himself out of his memories and took in his surroundings once more.

_There are always options_, he thought again, allowing anger to shoot through his body, bursting his previously calm composure into a shout of rage, and he stood, seething. Bella jumped up to stand with him, placing her small hands across his own in an attempt to comfort him.

"There are always options!" He roared, and Bella shook her head, shushing him urgently.

"There are always options, yes. But not always good ones." She replied quietly,and he growled in frustration.

"What options do we have? We have to the option to run. We can face Him. We can turn ourselves in to the Azkaban guards. None of those options are particularly desirable, Bella. In case you haven't noticed, all of them potentially lead to our deaths!"

"Then we shall die!" Bella told him, ferocity burning in her eyes. "We will die, and we will fight doing it! If that is what will happen, it will happen. There is nothing we can do, apart from reaching those godforsaken Order Headquarters."

"And have you considered what we might _say_, especially to Potter, when we finally reach Grimm-" Rodolphus started, but was quickly silenced by Bella's gentle fingers over his lips. He looked at her, searching for the glimmer that he had come to expect from her eyes, and instead finding fear. Pure and unbridled. Unlike anything he had seen from her before. That fear saddened him. Rodolphus had never seen something so dismally beautiful – he never thought he'd see the day when his wife's passionate spirit broke.

He looked at her questioningly, and she pointed towards the door. The couple stopped, Bella's hands still resting on his mouth, and Rodolphus heard it. Not much, but a definite rustling of leaves. With a nod of understanding, the pair Apparated to their next designated hide-out.

It was true that Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange well understood the gravity of their situation. It was fight, or die, or both.

Those were their options.

* * *

A/N: AAAAH! How did this happen? I can't believe I've update so soon. You awesome readers (both silent and reviewing) are inspiring me, I suppose. Thanks to scowlingpixie for her constant poking me in the back for an update.

Well, I hoped you guys liked it! Until next time... ciao!


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